


Little Bird

by gigi_the_bear, Iwovepizza



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Suicide, Depression, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigi_the_bear/pseuds/gigi_the_bear, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwovepizza/pseuds/Iwovepizza
Summary: All is quiet in Ketterdam after the events of Crooked Kingdom, that is until a powerful adversary , Markus Espenov, comes to town and begins to wreak havoc on the carefully constructed empire the Dregs had built.Kaz won't stand for this, and devises a plan to burn Espenov's mansion to the ground, with all of his riches in it. The only problem is that the doors can only be unlocked from the inside, and the only people that are ever invited in are prostitutes.Male prostitutes to be exact.As it turns out, Kaz seems to be just Espenov's type.





	1. Chapter 1

_"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,_

_Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt._

_It lies behind stars and under hills._

_And empty holes it fills._

_It comes first and follows after,_

_Ends life, kills laughter."_

_-J. R. R. Tolkein, The Hobbit_

 

\----Ӝ----

 

         Many monsters lurked in Ketterdam, and all of them were hungry for blood.

         They accumulated by the harbors and canals full of churning black water, lurked in back alleys scattered with trash, and frequented abandoned roads that were lit by sparsely placed lamps.

         Their silhouettes could be seen against blazing gold windows, and their forms shifted within shops and restaurants, their shadowy outlines sinister and threatening to devour anyone who came close.

         The biggest issue with these monsters was the fact that most of them didn't look like monsters at all.

         They lacked horns and a tail, their mouths weren't packed with sharp teeth, and their eyes were normal, with nothing in them that would suggest that they were creatures that could swindle and kill. They blended in perfectly with the masses of people that milled through the streets on a day to day basis, and not once did any of them raise alarms- at least, as long as they were cunning enough to evade detection from the authorities.

         Once, the biggest monster- with his claws deeply rooted in the very foundations of Ketterdam and his teeth firmly secured around the unfortunate souls that dared to defy him- was Jan Van Eck.

         He'd been the strongest monster, the alpha, but ever since he was toppled from his throne, his place had been taken by the one and only Kaz Brekker.

         Kaz was a formidable adversary, his connections spread far and wide and his empire practically devoured half of the city, its networks running just beneath the surface of society as his people exchanged information and goods on various levels of legality.

         However, two years after Kaz had taken over, the position of alpha had been quickly and ruthlessly snatched away from him by a headstrong contender.

         Markus Espenov was his name, and Kaz was going to rip him limb from limb, whether he did it by kicking the legs out from under Espenov's entire business empire or literally tearing the man apart, and he announced this goal as soon as all of the Dregs were back in Ketterdam.

         Markus had taken Ketterdam by storm as soon as his feet had touched down at the harbor, and it was no secret that his success was almost exclusively a result of his stunning looks; he was by no means an unattractive man, and two months into his stay a rumor went around that the bachelor had supposedly slept with the wives of almost every politician and mercher that had a position of power.

         This was just a rumor, however, because- when digging up dirt on Espenov- Inej informed the Dregs that he'd actually been sleeping with the politicians themselves, and apparently had a high interest in male prostitutes- often seen with a scantily-clad man on his arm when walking up the steps to his mansion.

         "His treasury is in the basement level," Inej told the Dregs as they assembled in the meeting room, everyone boasting dirt-smudged faces and haggard eyes. Their numbers were growing fast, and there had to be twenty-five people in this room alone. Twenty-five high-ranking Dregs out of the hundreds that dotted the city.

         Inej continued, "One of the guards talked about taking the money 'down below', so I can only assume that there's a level or two beneath the main floor."

         "How are we going to get in?" Jesper asked, scanning the almost perfectly accurate map of the Espenov estate that Inej had drawn out, including details as specific as the width and height of each individual window.

         It was ten acres in all and completely cleared of trees to make way for Espenov's extravagant amount of prized mares and stallions, all of which he raced in his home country, Ravka, during the summer months. His well-bred horses were the trade that had kickstarted his career, before he expanded his horizons to other things such as Jurda and silk.

         "That's the problem," Inej replied, grimacing. "The place is swarming with guards, so many that a team of people would probably never be able to sneak in themselves. And even if we did manage to get to the mansion itself, every door and window can only be opened from the inside, with very complicated locks that are incredibly difficult to pick from the inside, therefore making it downright impossible to do so from the outside."

         Kaz ground is teeth together, running a gloved hand through his hair as the fingers of his other hand drummed on the long table.

         "So that means we have to be invited inside," he mused, his brows drawing together as he worried his lower lip in between his teeth. "Does he host any parties?"

         "No, not frequently. He prefers to be the one hosted."

         "Sounds like a complete dick," Nina remarked, scowling, and Inej could only nod in agreement.

         "How about we disguise ourselves as guards or servants?" Kaz suggested. "We can kill or knock out a few of them and then take their uniforms so we can sneak inside."

         Inej shook her head once more, "Everyone knows everyone on this estate. They're practically family, a lot like the drüskelle."

         The soft murmuring of the Dregs discussing amongst themselves immediately ceased as the Fjerdan word left Inej's lips, a reminder of the one whom they'd lost.

         Nina bowed her head, but managed to stay collected. She was coping much better ever since she'd traveled back to Matthias' homeland to bury him.

         Inej continued on, looking a bit guilty, "None of the uniforms have hoods or hats that we can use to disguise our faces, and the guards or staff will immediately know we don't belong if we encounter any of them."

         Kaz let out a frustrated growl, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light of the lamps that hung overhead, which cast a weak golden glow over the entire room as night settled.

         "Are you sure he doesn't bring any people inside?" Kaz demanded. "Family? Friends?"

         "Well…he brings in the prostitutes."

         "Everyone but Inej, Nina, Wylan, and Jesper are dismissed," Kaz announced wryly, and the rest of the Dregs filed out silently.

         Though they looked cross at being left out of the action, they knew better than to argue.

         "Continue," Kaz prompted as soon as the door shut behind them and he was sure their conversation wasn't being invaded by prying ears on the other side.

         "The only way we can get inside that I can think of is that one of us has to pretend to be a prostitute and let us in once Espenov brings them inside the mansion," Inej explained, talking over Nina as soon as the Heartrender opened her mouth. "He's into men, remember? You can't go."

         "I volunteer," Jesper piped up immediately, flashing his most dazzling smile. "I can charm the pants off of him while you guys raid the safe and burn whatever you can't take with you."

         "You're not his type."

         "What do you mean I'm not his type? I'm everyone's type!"

         "Let's just say he prefers…fair-skinned prostitutes."

         "The nerve!" Jesper huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now I don't even want to go."

         "From what I hear, the prostitutes rave about him," Inej pointed out matter-of-factly.

         "You talked to the prostitutes?" Wylan spluttered, his cheeks reddening a bit. "Why would you do that?"

         "Why wouldn't I do that?" Inej shot back. "They're a valuable source of information and gave me a bit of a feel of what the layout of the mansion is like. Apparently, Espenov is very…accomplished…between the sheets, and is polite and courteous, never once talking down to them and always putting their comfort first above his own needs. There has only been one complaint, and that was from a boy who got lost in the maze of hallways when he tried to find a restroom afterward. It wasn't even related to the sex."

         "I almost feel bad," Nina sighed. "He sounds like a pretty decent guy, minus the racist part, of course."

         "Don't show him pity," Kaz snapped. "He's been slowly buying up all of the gambling dens- nearly completely taking over most of the Black Tips' an the Dime Lions' empire- and we can't compete with him. Pretty soon, the Crow Club will be next, and then we're done for. If we don't sack his treasury, we're as good as dead."

         "Being without money doesn't technically mean instant death," Inej reminded him, and Kaz scowled.

         "It does to me," he snatched up his cane, adjusting his tie. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow night, Espenov will pick up Wylan and bring him to the mansion, where he'll open the bathroom window and let Inej inside-"

         "Me?" Wylan squeaked, his eyes going wide.

         "Yes, you. Who else?" Kaz snapped.

         "There is no way I'm letting my boyfriend go in there," Jesper deadpanned, putting a reassuring hand on Wylan's shoulder. "I'm not comfortable with it, and neither is he."

         "It doesn't matter if you're comfortable with it or not. This is the plan, and it's final," Kaz barked, squaring his shoulders. He didn't seem at all intimidated as Jesper loomed over him, the Zemeni boy easily towering above the leader of the Dregs.

         Kaz continued on, "Besides, it's not actual sex. We'll be out before you get to that part."

         "That's not the point," Jesper growled, the hand that wasn't on Wylan's shoulder balling into a fist. "He can still do stuff before the actual sex begins, and besides, he's taken."

         "On top of that, he won't be able to pick the locks- at least, not ones as complicated as these," Inej deadpanned. "That is, unless he can master the lock-picking skill in 24 hours."

         "Then who else will go?" Kaz prompted.

         He paled as all eyes went to him.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

         "This is fucking ridiculous," Kaz grouched as he and Jesper strolled down the dim street arm in arm, though the dark-eyed teen found it difficult to keep up with his companion's long stride, especially without his cane. "I could've easily had another one of the Dregs' lock pickers do this."

         "Do you really trust any of them with a job like this?" Silence. "That's what I thought."

         Kaz's scowl was ugly on his face, his lips curled and his eyes hard as he limped along, hating to admit that he was clinging to Jesper for balance.

         "Stop looking so mad, you're ruining what little sex appeal you already had," Jesper chided, nudging Kaz a bit with his elbow, and the glare he received in return could make flowers wither. "The only reason you're 'sexy' at all right now is because of the clothes Nina got you."

         "If you mention the clothes one more time, I'll make your life a living hell," Kaz warned, his eyes flashing, though it was difficult for him to seem menacing in his new attire. "I may not have weapons on me, but I can still bite off your ear."

         "That's kinky as fuck."

         "I bet Wylan will absolutely _adore_ a one-eared boyfriend."

         "Wylan loves me for who I am, not because of my dashingly good looks," Jesper pointed out matter-of-factly, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. "Though they may be an added bonus."

         "I still don't understand why you refused let him go. You forced me into this whole mess in his stead."

         "Wylan can't pick locks."

         "Yeah, but perhaps I could teach him if we got some practice locks-"

         "You and I both know he wouldn't've been able to learn in time," Jesper insisted flatly. "Would you let Inej do something like this?"

         "No, but-"

         "Precisely."

         "We need Inej to get to the window in the first place," Kaz insisted, nearly collapsing as his bad knee buckled, but Jesper was there to keep him upright. "She wouldn't've been any use to us inside, even if Espenov was into women."

         "Yeah, but let's factor out the widely different skill sets of Wylan and Inej for a moment," Jesper suggested. "If you didn't need Inej for anything else, would you allow her to go in there?"

         "No, because-"

         "It doesn't matter why. It only matters that you still said no."

         Kaz opened his mouth to argue, a scathing reply balanced at the tip of his tongue, but decided against it, his teeth clicking as he snapped his jaw shut and looked away, scowling.

         "Besides, you're the perfect guy for the job," Jesper pointed out. "Judging from the information Inej gathered on the prostitutes and the traits that they have, you're exactly Espenov's type."

         The words were bitter to Kaz's ears.

         Instead of being Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, he'd been reduced to nothing more than "Espenov's type", and even though it was perfect for this sort of operation, Kaz still despised his titles being stripped from him, making him seem no more insignificant than the kind of people whom he was masquerading as.

         "Espenov's type" was a list of compiled traits that Inej had jotted down onto a piece of paper after the meeting adjourned. Kaz had fit about three-fifths of those traits.

         Dark eyes and hair.

         Fair skin.

        Physique that was on the curvy side of masculine.

         Kaz hated to admit it, but beneath all of the thick suits and coats that were able to make the lines of his body seem as lean and sharp as possible, he had a slightly hourglass figure that was less masculine than he would've liked.

         On top of the skimpy clothes Nina had managed to squeeze him into (They were women's clothes! Women's!), Kaz looked like the ideal candidate to be chosen by Espenov.

         Kaz couldn't wait to drive the fucker bankrupt, and was fantasizing about the horrified look on his face when suddenly they rounded a corner and Kaz was suddenly very much aware that they'd reached their destination.

         Light spilled out onto the cobbles from two wide windows, which flanked an old wooden door that was set into cracked and crumbling brick.

         A sign hung above their heads, swinging from a pole that was set into the space above the door.

         "THE LUCKY LADY" it read in bright gold letters, and a picture of a buxom beauty holding two mugs of frothing beer was painted next to it.

         Kaz swore that the eye that wasn't winking bore into him as he passed under her.

         White noise drifted in through the walls, the sounds of glasses clinking and feet shuffling and voices rumbling creating a dissonant symphony in Kaz's ears.

         "Are you sure you're cool with this, Kaz?" Jesper asked suddenly as the two loitered around outside, careful to make sure they weren't spotted by anyone other than the drunkards that staggered out of the bar and couldn't care less what the two of them were doing.

         "You didn't seem all that concerned with me being okay with it before," Kaz snorted, leaning against the wall and kneading the muscles of his bad leg absently, trying to relieve the ache that plagued him whenever he went without his cane. "What brought on the change of heart?"

         "It's just that I know you've gotten so much better, and I just..." Jesper's voiced trailed off as the Zemeni boy turned his head away. "I don't want you to lose all of the progress you and Inej have made. I mean, it's a miracle you've gone out without gloves, much less gone out dressed like that."

         He made a vague gesture at Kaz, who huffed.

         "In the long run, it doesn't really matter if I'm okay with it or not," he shrugged. "No one else can pull off this job other than me, or at least not with the same efficiency."

         "Of course it matters if you're okay with it," Jesper snapped, eying two men warily as they strode out of the bar side-by-side, their eyes a bit glazed but their words clear and their movements somewhat coordinated. "We can call if off now, if you want. The last thing I want you to do is make you step too much outside of your comfort zone and risk losing all of the progress that you've been making."

         "It's not like we're actually having sex."

         "Yeah, but you guys will probably need to be kissing and, you know, touching," Jesper worried his lower lip in between his teeth, his eyes clearly displaying his concern. "He's gonna be hiking up your shirt and maybe touching you in places you don't want to be touched before the actual stuff begins."

         "I'll be fine," Kaz insisted, and despite the fact that he sounded confident on the outside, on the inside he was more unsure than he'd necessarily like to be.

         Jesper looked Kaz up and down, his gaze like a physical touch, and frowned as Kaz recoiled away from him, hugging his shoulders and not making eye contact.

         "I will say this, for a douche-bag this Espenov dude has a great taste in men, especially ones wearing your kind of clothes." A pause. "Please don't bite off my ear."

         Kaz rolled his eyes and gave a half-smile, but his jaw was clenched, to the point where his teeth began to ache from being ground together.

         "I don't think Markus would find me very attractive with blood on my face, so you can keep your ear for now."

         Jesper seemed just about ready to deliver a witty retort when suddenly the doors flew open and Espenov came sauntering out of the bar.

         The blazing gold light from the windows caused shadows to outline the dips and hollows in his chiseled face, and despite the fact that there was a drink in his hand, he didn't seem at all tipsy, his eyes clear and his stride even.

         The Lucky Lady's unwinking eye seemed to flash in warning, and Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat as Jesper's easygoing expression melted away, replaced by hard determination.

         Just as Inej had predicted, Espenov loitered around the street for a while, chatting up a storm with his business partners as they complimented the drinks and the food within the bar and bid farewell to one another as the night grew darker.

         And just like that, Jesper was crowding him into the wall.

         He began to panic, his eyes growing wild as Jesper placed a hand on his hip, his fingers brushing over the bare skin of his stomach that peeked out from under his too-tight shirt.

         "I'm just playing the part. Calm down," Jesper murmured reassuringly into his ear, and even though Kaz did relax almost all the way, the tension in his shoulders never eased as his fists clenched.

         In a louder voice, loud enough for Espenov to hear, Jesper crooned, "I had a wonderful time, beautiful. Perhaps we can get together some other night."

         Kaz swallowed hard, finding it difficult to make his throat work as Jesper's breath fanned across his face, before replying, "Anytime."

         "You sound like you're being strangled," Jesper hissed into Kaz's ear, pretending to get in a neck kiss to hide the words. "Take it easy."

         "Take it easy," Kaz repeated, shaking his head and scoffing. "As if."

         Jesper produced a giant wad of kruge from his pocket and handed it to Kaz, who peered over Jesper's shoulder as he accepted it and found Espenov watching the interaction with rapt attention.

         "Catch you later, sweetie," Jesper chuckled, tipping his hat and kissing Kaz's bare knuckles before disappearing off into the night.

         Kaz watched him go with a growing sense of dread, the place where Jesper's lips touched his skin tingling uncomfortably.

         He stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers and reminding himself to breathe, before busying himself counting the kruge, which gave him something to occupy himself with and was an excuse to stay within Espenov's sight.

         As the street began to clear, with more and more of Espenov's comrades leaving, the man began to outwardly admire Kaz, and more than once the teen looked up from his kruge to find a hungry set of eyes raking over him in like he was some sort of buffet.

         Sometimes their gazes would meet, and Kaz had to force down bile as he winked and wiggled his fingers in the seductive wave Nina had taught him to do.

         It was no surprise when he was approached some time later, once everyone had left and the streets were cleared.

         "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" were the first words said to him, and a full body shiver wracked Kaz's body as the teen tucked the kruge into one of the pockets of his pants, cramming the crisp bills into it despite how shallow it was.

         Pretty little thing.

         Espenov's Ravkan accent was thick, considering that's where he'd recently emigrated from, and his words sounded like honey, albeit honey that had been poisoned. Kaz now understood how this man could lure in so many sexual partners.

         "Oh, I don't know. Just enjoying the scenery, I suppose," he replied sleekly, batting his lashes, though his smile was thin. "What's a handsome man such as yourself doing lingering here when you could've just as easily gone to the after party your colleague mentioned?"

         "I had my eyes set on something other than an after party," Kaz's smile wavered a bit as Espenov planted his hand on the wall next to his head, leaning forward until the teen could smell the alcohol on his breath, though it was faint. "Something that could perhaps be a bit more enjoyable than hanging around rich crooks with sticks up their asses."

         "And what may that be?"

         "The question, _mio pichske uccesco_ , is whom that may be."

         Mio pichske uccesco.

         "My little bird" in Ravkan.

         Kaz put on his best seductive smile, and despite the fact that the action made him want to vomit, he leaned in and placed a hand on Espenov's chest, feeling his muscles flex beneath the fabric of his coat.

         "Would you care to come with me back to my home to take things a little further?" Espenov murmured into Kaz's ear before kissing his temple, and it took every single morsel of Kaz's self-control not to recoil. "Not without pay, of course."

         Images of Jordie and churning black water threatened to spring up behind his eyelids, but he blinked them back, turning his head away from Espenov in an attempt to conceal his fear.

         His heart was flying in his chest, sweat beading across his brow, and he could only nod numbly, knowing fully well that if he tried for a verbal response to Markus' question, a scream would rip from his throat instead.

         "Are you sure? I know you had a client beforehand and I wouldn't want to overwork you," Espenov pointed out, suddenly concerned. "And you seem a bit hesitant. We could always meet tomorrow if you're tired."

         Kaz's brow furrowed accusingly, for the teen wasn't expecting the man to be so considerate, but eventually he was able to force a smile.

         "It's fine," he managed, and he was surprised that his words didn't come out as a rasp. "Shall we walk?"

         A grin broke out over Markus' face, and a feral one at that, "Of course."

         He offered his arm, and Kaz took it after a raging internal battle, allowing himself to be led down the street and towards Espenov's manor, whose location he'd already memorized by tenfold by staring down at its location on the sprawling maps of Ketterdam.

         "It's quite cold outside," Espenov noted as he strolled down the cobbled road, his strides long and difficult for Kaz to keep up with, what with his limp. "And your clothing is rather…meager. Would you like my coat?"

         "You don't have to," Kaz drawled, realizing that he'd been so nervous that he'd failed to notice the slight chill in the air, his body humming with so much adrenaline that it hadn't had time to register the low temperature. "I'm alright."

         Despite Kaz's denials, Espenov stopped in the middle of the street and removed his coat, draping it over Kaz's shoulders before offering his arm once more and continuing on.

         "Is that better?"

         "Yes, quite."

         The fabric smelled like smoke and fine liquor and was lined on the inside with mink fur, and Kaz couldn't help but take a good whiff of it as he pulled the jacket tighter around himself.

         Not to mention that the removal of the coat had revealed a fine physique indeed; Espenov was all hard muscle and fine edges, all of which strained against the fabric of his white button-down and provided for a quite stellar view.

         "Even if it is a bit cold, it's a very nice evening," Espenov remarked, grinning up at the night sky. The moon was but a dark smudge in the sky, the stars blotted out by centuries of pollution so that only the brightest remained.

         "Indeed," Kaz replied, slightly out of breath in an attempt to keep up as they neared the manor, which was looming up behind the buildings ominously.

         Markus seemed to notice Kaz struggling.

         "Are you okay? You're limping."

         "My last client was very…thorough," Kaz lied, his face flushing hot at those words; he knew fully well what they implied, and it planted an image in his head that he was hasty to get rid of, though the thing was stubborn and lingered at the back of his mind.

         Markus frowned, slowing his step and making it worlds easier for Kaz to keep pace, "He must've been very rough with you if you're limping that hard."

         "It is what it is," Kaz shrugged, suddenly taking interest in the ground, his eyes scanning the smooth cobbles underfoot. "Cons of the job."

         "Did he hurt you?" Espenov demanded, reaching over to cover Kaz's hand with his own where it lay on his arm, and Kaz grimaced outwardly this time, though Markus clearly mistook it for an answer to his question, since the man bristled.

         "Why do you care?" the teen growled finally, defensive.

         "I don't like people who hurt other people," Markus replied evenly, but there was murder in his eyes. "Do you remember his address?"

         "I'm not allowed to disclose it."

         "Are you sure? I have contacts. He can be…disposed of."

         Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat. Did he just threaten to hire a hitman to kill Jesper? Just because he believed Jesper had hurt Kaz?

         Instead of responding, Kaz looked up and announced, "Ah, look, we're here!"

         Markus' frowned deepened, but he didn't comment on Kaz's brisk change of subject as he approached the huge host of guards stationed at the gate, all who moved out of the way reverently to grant Espenov and Kaz safe passage.

         Kaz eyed their huge assortment of weapons warily, from their giant rifles to their dual pistols tucked into their belts to the huge dogs that prowled by their feet, watching Kaz with hungry eyes. These men were armed to the teeth, and Kaz didn't doubt that they were professionally trained, not to mention the fact that there were tons of them. He could only pray that his friends would be able to sneak past them and get inside.

         "Is your spouse home?" Kaz asked, batting his eyelashes. He knew that if he acted like this was a totally normal thing, Espenov would get suspicious.

         "There isn't a spouse to speak of," he replied gently, so gently that Kaz wondered how it was possible for a man of his size and status to sound so tender. "It's just us and the servants and the guards."

         And the special operatives of the Dregs, Kaz thought, but he didn't dare say it aloud.

         As they scaled the many steps up to the front door, Kaz began to grow nervous. It was a big house. How would Inej know which window Kaz had opened? She'd specifically told him which room Espenov took his prostitutes into, and that she knew its location and the location of the bathroom that was attached to it, but it was a big house. There were a lot of windows, and one could easily lose track.

         "Trust us," Inej had murmured before Kaz and Jesper had departed, and as much as Kaz would've liked to do so, there was still a seed of doubt that had been planted inside of his head.

         Espenov had been incredibly kind and courteous so far, which was to be expected judging from Inej's report, and it was incredibly unnerving that this man intended to pay Kaz to have sex with him.

         No matter how kind he seemed, the fact that he was doing this in general should raise alarm bells inside of Kaz's head; he knew of no decent man that took home a constant stream of prostitutes.

         Espenov held the door open for Kaz, who thanked him, and took back his coat, carefully hanging it up on a very stately coatrack.

         Kaz purposefully dropped a couple of kruge onto the floor as Espenov did so, apologizing as he bent to pick them up, but as he slowly straightened again, he stuffed a wad of cloth into the door lock as to make sure it wouldn't be able to be closed properly, easily allowing the rest of the Dregs access to the interior.

         Now, all that was left was to unlock the window in the bedroom's bathroom to let Inej inside so that she could help Kaz incapacitate Espenov (since Kaz was weaponless) and then the plan would be as good as complete.

         Espenov didn't notice the cloth as he closed the door, too busy rummaging through the pockets of his jacket to find his wallet to pay attention, and Kaz let out a soft breath before mustering up the courage to ogle the room around him.

         It had to be one of the most lavish entry hall he'd ever seen, one that combatted even the one in the Van Eck mansion.

         Two sweeping staircases curled up to the second floor, with a hallway to the rest of the rooms on the first floor opening up between them, and a circle of huge columns supported the domed ceiling, which boasted a huge skylight that displayed a blanket of navy sky. Everything was white marble and bright gold, with shiny filigree creeping up over the walls and handrails like golden ivy, and it was all lit with numerous oil lamps that were set at intervals along the wall.

         Kaz made a move to go between the staircases, but Espenov took his hand and led him over to the stairs themselves, and Kaz's heart promptly relocated itself into his throat as they ascended.

         No doubt to get to a bedroom.

         Kaz followed Espenov down the hallway, his breath coming fast and quick as Espenov produced his wallet from his pants pocket, sifting through it before producing six crisp hundreds, and the teen swallowed around the lump in his throat- Jesper had paid in tens to make the wad of cash seem bigger, so all in all it had to be about one hundred and fifty kruge.

         This was four hundred and fifty more than that.

         "I assume this amount will suffice for your services?" Espenov asked, showing Kaz the bills and allowing the teen to study them, making sure they weren't fakes before tucking them into his pocket along with the kruge Jesper gave him.

         "Indeed it is," Kaz drawled, biting his lower lip and purposefully keeping his eyes on Markus' mouth, studying his Cupid's bow lips. His efforts didn't go unnoticed. "I didn't think that someone like me would be worth so much money."

         "You're worth all of the money in Ketterdam's treasury, mio pichske uccesco," Espenov replied seriously, and Kaz felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he regarded the hungry look in the man's eyes.

         "Really?" Kaz asked, genuinely surprised as Espenov stopped in front of an unassuming door and opened it, motioning Kaz inside.

         "Yes, really. You're perfect."

         Kaz shrank a bit under the appreciative gaze that raked over him lingering on the small sliver of skin that peeked out from under his too-tight shirt. He wasn't sure if it had been one of Inej's or one of Wylan's, but either way the garment was ill-fitting and clung to him like a second skin.

         "Is there anything you need before we begin?" Espenov asked, shifting restlessly. It looked like it was taking all of his self-control not to pounce on Kaz and ravish him all through the night.

         The thought made it feel like there were bugs crawling under his skin, and he shook his head.

         "Water? Food?"

         "Actually, do you have a bathroom? I want to get myself cleaned up a bit."

         A wolfish grin split Espenov's face, and he nodded, gesturing with his chin to a door that was off to their left.

         "Don't take too much time now, pichske ucceso," he chided, slapping Kaz's ass playfully as the teen passed by and chuckling at the surprised yelp it elicited. "I don't want to be kept waiting."

         Kaz bustled into the bathroom as quickly as possible, hoping that his swiftness looked to be out of eagerness than out of terror, and let out a ragged breath when he realized that the door didn't have a lock. Why would it?

         Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, Kaz hurried over to the single window and quickly picked the incredibly complicated lock using a couple of bobby pins he'd stashed in his hair.

         Jesper had been right. Wylan would've never been able to pick this lock.

         "You ready yet?" Markus rumbled from outside the door, and Kaz's heart jackhammered away in his chest when he realized that the only thing that was keeping the man from barging inside and catching Kaz red-handed was his politeness.

         "Just a couple of more minutes! I want to make sure there aren't any more traces of my other client! We wouldn't want that, now would we?" It took every single morsel of effort to keep the tremor out of his voice.

         "Certainly not," Markus agreed, and Kaz could almost hear the way his nose wrinkled in disgust.

         As quietly as he could manage, Kaz slowly opened up the window.

         He expected Inej to be there, perched on the sill with her knives in hand, ready to help Kaz overpower Markus.

         She was supposed to be there.

         Needless to say, Kaz's stomach plummeted like a leaden ball tossed into the sea when he was met with empty air and darkness.

         He felt his mouth go dry as he poked his head out of the window and his gaze raked over every inch of the property he could see.

         Nothing.

         He withdrew, shocked into numbness, and was only barely able to register the distant shout of a guard that echoed from somewhere far off.

         The group had been spotted.

         They were occupied by the guards, too busy to get to Kaz.

         "What's the holdup?" Markus barked, and the door opened slightly before Kaz was flying forwards and slamming it shut again, eliciting a startled grunt from Espenov.

         "Please, just a little bit more time!" he pleaded, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He was supposed to act like he was going as quickly as he could. Supposed to act like he was eager for this.

         "Let me come inside and lend a hand. It'll take less time, and hey, we'll get to learn each other's bodies a little before the true fun starts."

         "No, I want it to be a surprise!" Kaz insisted, his hands planted firmly on the door and sweat dribbling down his temple.

         "Very well," Markus conceded, though Kaz could hear his reluctance- his patience was wearing thin, and would only last for so long.

         Kaz ran his hands through his hair, chewing on his nails as he paced the length of the bathroom over and over and over again.

         Where was Inej? Where could she be?

         He kept checking out the window, begging whichever god or saint that was listening for Inej to be on the sill, but he had no such luck.

         "Alright, I'm coming in!" Markus bellowed, and Kaz had just enough time to pretend to be pulling his pants back up before Espenov barged inside.

         His expression, which had been contorted with rage, smoothed out when he saw Kaz fumbling with his buckle.

         "Sorry it took so long," Kaz apologized, but his voice was trembling.

         Markus' brow furrowed.

         "Are you okay?"

         Before Kaz could think it over, he said, "No, actually, I'm feeling a bit nauseous and dizzy and sick and I don't think that we should continue on with this transaction."

         Cursing himself inwardly, he dug through his pockets and produced the six hundred kruge, shoving it back into an incredibly bewildered Espenov's hands.

         "What do you mean?" the man asked, seeming overwhelmed, "Are you going to throw up?"

         "I might," Kaz whispered, but he knew that wasn't true. He'd purposefully fasted all day so that he wouldn't vomit at the physical touch. "I think I might've caught something from the last client, and I really wouldn't want you catching it."

         He skirted around a still shell-shocked Espenov and headed for the door. "And I thank you so much for your generosity and hospitality but I should really get going-"

         Why was he so fucking useless when it came to these kinds of things? Why couldn't he just suck it up and deal with it like anyone else would? What gives him a free pass to chicken out like this? Something that happened so long ago that a part of him thinks that it's just mostly exaggerated nightmares by now?

         He should just get over his petty little fear and have some fucking sex with Markus and hey, maybe he would get lucky and Inej would show up in the middle of it and kill the guy.

         His face flushed as he reached for the doorknob.

         No, he wouldn't want Inej to show up in the middle. The mere thought of Inej seeing Kaz being pounded into the mattress by a stranger made him sick to the stomach.

         He was in the middle of some particularly harsh self-loathing when a rough hand clamped down onto his shoulder, spinning him around.

         "Where do you think you're going?" Markus growled, and Kaz almost pissed himself when he found the easygoing, gentle expression on the man's face gone.

         "I-I-I was just leaving," he stammered. "I mean, I don't want you getting sick-"

         "What makes you think you're allowed to leave yet?" Markus demanded, his hand moving from Kaz's shoulder to wrap around the teen's wrist. His grip felt like a bear trap, and Kaz was too terrified to even struggle, his feet stuck to the ground like glue.

         "I gave you your money back!" Kaz squeaked, hating how vulnerable he sounded. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it, I must've caught something from the other client-"

         "You and I both know you didn't have sex with that man, pichske uccesco," Espenov snorted, his grip somehow managing to tighten even more, and Kaz thought he would have a heart attack, bile rising up in the back of his throat. "Why do you look so surprised? Do you think me a fool?"

         "I-I-I don't know what you're talking about," Kaz insisted, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He shouldn't be a panicking mess right now. He should be cool, calm, and collected, just like how he was on any other mission.

         But no, this mission had to involve touching and sex and now all of a sudden Kaz was blabbering away like some sort of idiot.

         Markus' eyes flashed dangerously, "Any man living in Ketterdam would be a buffoon if he didn't know the face of the Bastard of the Barrel."

         Kaz did vomit then, the bile splattering onto the floor and burning his throat like the Sahara, and though Markus recoiled from the mess, disgusted at how it had narrowly missed his designer shoes, his grip on Kaz's wrist still didn't lessen. The plan had hindered on the fact that Markus hadn't been in Ketterdam long, and thus wouldn't recognize Kaz. He would've cursed himself for not thinking that out fully, if he wasn't fearing for his life.

         In one powerful pull, Kaz was stumbling towards Markus and his other hand was seized.

         "You're more recognizable than you think, Mr. Brekker," Espenov crooned as he pulled Kaz close.

         The smell of smoke and liquor wafted off of his clothes, and now, instead of being pleasant, it was suffocating, invading Kaz's nose and clogging up his throat.

         "I noticed all of the signs immediately. The limp. The scars on your face. The way you looked like you wanted to vomit whenever I laid my hands on you. Hell, even that dark boy you were with was recognizable as one of your colleagues. He, unlike you, didn't have his tattoo cleverly covered with makeup. I knew you were a part of the Dregs as soon as I laid eyes on you, and it didn't take me long to figure out which one of the Dregs you were."

         He gave a pointed look down at where his fingers were wrapped around Kaz's wrist, and the teen let out a stuttering breath when he saw that most, if not all, of the makeup had been rubbed away, revealing the incredibly notable crow bending over to drink from the goblet.

         He'd never hated the tattoo more than he did now.

         "Listen, I don't want any trouble-"

         "You don't want any trouble? Ha!" Markus' laugh sent chills racing up and down Kaz's spine. "Why else would you pretend to be a prostitute other than to get into my house and cause mischief? Were you planning on killing me? Because I know you aren't armed, pichske uccesco."

         Kaz's mouth couldn't form words, and Markus' grin turned absolutely feral, a dangerous and animalistic glint appearing in his eyes that wasn't there before.

         "That doesn't matter now, because I know that if you're panicking, your plan isn't working like you wanted it to," he laughed again. "I'm still going to get what I came for, whether I pay you or not."

         "What?!" Kaz spluttered as he was dragged over to the four-post bed. "No, no, no that's not necessary. What about a ransom? I know they'll pay a ransom."

         Markus stopped for a moment to give him a look. "I'm living in the lap of luxury, pichske uccesco, do you really think I need any more money?"

         "Listen, I can't-" his hysteria bled through his words, and Markus easily cut him off:

         "No, you just won't. I can change that, though, whether you want it or not," he bared his teeth, "And if you try to piss yourself to get out of it, you're gonna be in for a ton of pain both you and I don't really want to deal with. They always try to piss themselves."

         "They?!"

         "Yes, they. There were others before you. Ones that tried to back out." Kaz went silent, inwardly begging Espenov not to say any more, but naturally, his pleas went unanswered. "I had my way with them anyway. A lot of them screamed- all of them screamed at first- but many of them decided they liked it by the end. I killed them all once I was done and had their bodies dumped into the canal. I can't have my reputation being tarnished, right?"

         That explained why there were only prostitutes that raved about him, and Kaz cursed himself for not being suspicious of the lack of bad reviews, beginning to strain even harder against Espenov's death grip.

         He continued on, completely unfazed by Kaz's struggling, which had become violent, "Otherwise, hookers wouldn't want to come with me anymore."

         He pulled Kaz towards the bed like he weighed nothing, and Kaz's eyes were wild with terror, like an animal backed up into a corner.

         And then his back hit the bed, his body sinking into a plushy mattress and soft comforters.

         Black spots danced in front of his vision, and a haze of panic clouded his mind. It didn't matter how he escaped, didn't matter if he was ripped to shreds or put through the wringer in the process, but he had to escape. There was no other option.

         Baring his teeth in a snarl, he kicked out with his good leg, grinning wickedly as his shoe-clad foot connected with Espenov's stomach with all the force Kaz could muster. The man grunted, his knees threatening to buckle as he stumbled back into the wall and let go of Kaz's wrists in the process.

         The teen was on his feet in mere seconds, limping over to the door as fast as his legs could carry him as Espenov slumped against the wall, gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to bear with the pain.

         Kaz's hand had just closed around the doorknob when a heavy weight slammed him into the door, cracking his head into the wood and making his mind whorl.

         "You're not getting away from me that easily," Espenov spat, his hands clamping onto Kaz's shoulders as he tossed the teen to the ground.

His head still spinning from the impact, Kaz made a move to roll over and crawl away, but that's when Espenov's boot came down hard onto his knee.

         Kaz finally gave Espenov the pleasure of hearing him scream, a raw, shrill sound tearing from his throat as tears streamed down his face and the bone snapped, crippling him even more than before.

         He grit his teeth through the agony of it, willing the tears away, and pounded Espenov with his fists as the man slung Kaz over one shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes. It was like trying to fight a brick wall, though, and the man didn't seem at all fazed as blows rained down upon his back and shoulders.

         Kaz choked on another scream as Espenov carried him back over to the bed, his breaths sawing in and out of his lungs and his thoughts were muddled by fear and agony.

         He tried kicking out again, but his bad leg was practically useless, and he nearly blacked out when he attempted to use the broken one.

         And although he continued on with his writhing and thrashing as the comforters rose up to meet him and his back sunk into the mattress, a little voice inside of him- a voice that he hated with every fiber of his being- was resigned.

         This was going to happen. It was always going to happen.

         Maybe it would be best if you blacked out, the voice inside of him noted. That way, you won't be able to remember or feel it.

         Kaz ignored it.

         "We won't have any more mishaps like that again, got it?" Espenov snarled, looming over Kaz, and the teen spit in his face.

         "So much for not liking people who hurt other people," Kaz hissed as Markus wiped the spittle from his eyes, and the man's expression contorted.

         "Some sacrifices are worth making," his scowl turned wolfish, and Kaz's tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. "Especially for a gem like you, _pichske uccesco_."

         "Fuck you."

         "You're going to need a little more breaking in than I thought," Espenov tutted, pinning Kaz's wrists to either side of his head, and never before had the teen felt so absolutely helpless as the man lowered his weight down on top of him.

         He was pretty sure that was an erection digging into his thigh, and he choked on more bile at the thought that Markus was enjoying this. Enjoying watching Kaz crumble to pieces.

         "You know what? I don't think I'll need to worry about getting hookers anymore," Markus crooned, and Kaz thought his heart would beat right out of his chest as the man took both of Kaz's wrists in one hand- his grip still like iron, strong and unyielding- and with the other began to pop the buttons on his shirt.

         He did it slow, knowing fully well that Kaz could do nothing but watch wide-eyed as inch by terrifying inch of Espenov's muscular chest was revealed. Eventually the man was able to slide the shirt off of his shoulders, allowing it to pool onto the floor.

         "I can just keep you. It'll cost me a lot less, won't it?"

         Kaz didn't realize he was crying until Markus leaned down and mouthed along his jaw to taste the salt of tears there.

         He was going to throw up, but he'd already done that and there was nothing left, so he simply became a mess of tears and nausea and panic and terror. He thrashed harder, screaming at the top of his lungs, but he didn't have an endless amount of energy, and Markus only sat back patiently and watched as Kaz was slowly overtaken by fatigue.

         After what felt like years of struggling, he went limp, exhaustion turning his lungs into lead and his body into putty.

         "No," Kaz whispered, screwing his eyes shut and trying to turn his head away from the unwanted attention, but that only served to bare his neck to his attacker, who dipped his head down to suck a dark hickey into the soft flesh there.

         "Come on, you have to admit that I'd be doing the world a service by taking you off the streets," Markus murmured into his skin, his breath fanning across his neck and causing Kaz's body to be wracked by shivers. "You can be my little pet. I can keep you here, in this room, and use you as I please."

         "Fuck off." The words sounded more tired than defiant.

         "I'll take very good care of you," Markus promised, planting a kiss on Kaz's lips- one that made Kaz's stomach churn- and growling as the teen bit his lips hard, drawing a bit of blood before the man was able to wrench away from him. "You might need a bit of training, but that won't be a problem since I have a few contacts that would be willing to take up the project. I hear Tante Heleen has a bit of a bone to pick with you."

         "Let me go," Kaz had been reduced to begging. He had nothing left. His throat was too raw to scream any longer. He couldn't walk, didn't have the energy to even put up any more of a fight, and by god he didn't want to be forced to just lie there and be unable to do anything but _take it_ -

         "That's not going to happen," Markus deadpanned. "I've been looking to have you for a long time and I'm not giving you up now that you're here. Hey, maybe you can make me some big bucks. I bet I could rent you out to some brothels or a few of my colleagues once you're all settled in. I bet some of your enemies would pay a shitton of money to fuck you into silence, _pichske uccesco_."

         Kaz whimpered, screwing his eyes shut against the words. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, he would wake up. This would only be a terrible nightmare.

         "You'd be living an incredibly pampered life, Mr. Brekker. Fine clothes. All of the food you'd like. Anything your heart desires. And I'll ravish you all night until you fall asleep in my arms. It'll be quite worth your while."

         "I think I'll pass," Kaz growled, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling as tears trickled out of the corners.

         "Then perhaps you'll need a trial round to get to know how good I can make you feel. I will make you like it, Kaz Brekker, whether you want to or not."

 _Slip away,_ Kaz begged himself. _Go anywhere but here._

         Immediately, his mind flew to the harbor, and he couldn't say he was all that surprised as dark water surged up to meet him and Jordie's greying flesh grew spongey beneath his fingertips.

         He wept silently, his eyes dead as Markus slowly began to undress even further, making lewd comments at any chance that he could.

         "I know you'll be screaming for it to stop at first, but by the end those screams will be telling me to keep going, I guarantee it."

         "This is your first time, right pichske uccesco? I'm honored to be the one to pop that cherry of yours."

         "It might hurt at first and you might bleed a little, but that's normal."

         Each tear that Kaz shed burned guilt and shame into his soul.

         The Bastard of the Barrel brought to tears by one man?

         That was pretty fucking pathetic.

         He'd survived worse than this, others had seen worse than this.

      _She_ had seen worse, had been through worse.

         Inej wouldn't've taken this, wouldn't've slumped from exhaustion and terror and pain; she would've found a way to keep fighting despite her tired body, would've found a way to cut open his throat even with a broken leg or two. She'd hold her head high, determined to never be taken in the way she'd been taken at the Menagerie.

         Kaz wanted to keep fighting. He wanted to keep fighting so bad that the very marrow of his bones hurt as he tried to dredge up the strength to keep resisting- however futile that resisting may be.

         He wanted to kick, to scream, to rip open Markus' stomach and feed his organs to his own dogs.

         But he didn't fight. Couldn't.

         He couldn't kick because the one leg that would be able to do him any good was broken.

         He couldn't scream because his throat was torn from already doing so.

         And he couldn't tear this man to shreds because he was still pinning his hands.

         "Listen here, you're lucky to have been chosen by me. You're fucking _blessed_."

         Kaz didn't even have the energy to scoff. He was drifting, already so far away. Already submersed into the frigid cold water that turned his veins into ice, already slumped over Jordie's corpse and desperately kicking his way over to shore.

         Kaz's eyes stared into nothing as Markus tore open Kaz's shirt, baring his pale, lightly muscled stomach to Espenov's hungry eyes. Appreciative hands ran over his skin, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and Kaz shuddered but remained silent. His gaze was empty.

         "Let's get rid of these, shall we?" Markus prompted as he unbuckled Kaz's belt and began to pull his trousers off.

         "No," Kaz protested weakly, grabbing the hem of his pants and trying to tug them back up as Markus tugged them down.

         He was already so immersed into the flashback, though, that his hands were shaking too much to really keep a good hold on it, and all it took was Markus gently batting his hands away to make him release his hold. There was agony as his broken leg was moved around, and more tears were shed as his pants joined his shirt and Espenov's clothing on the ground.

         He'd been a fucking idiot. They'd all been fucking idiots.

         Now it was just him in his underwear and Markus down to the skin.

         Resignation had already settled down heavily onto his shoulders and chest, like an elephant was sitting on him.

         Markus pulled Kaz father up onto the bed until his head was cushioned on an unnecessary amount of pillows.

         "I want to make this as good for you as possible," Markus told Kaz softly, as if he wasn't about to take what he wanted by force, and he stuffed a pillow under Kaz's lower back before gently pulling the teen's hips into his lap.

         "Stop. Please." It was a fruitless plea, a final cry into the void before being consumed by it.

         Smooth fingers tugging on the hem of his underwear had Kaz's hands flying up to try and stop them.

         "No," he begged, and it came out as a hoarse sniffle. "Please, no. Stop."

         "You'll enjoy it, I promise," Markus assured, kissing away a couple of the tears before yanking the underwear down, a soft sigh of appreciation escaping his lips at the same time as Kaz's ragged sob.

         Kaz's eyes rolled back into his head as Espenov's hands clamped over his hips, and he saw a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye before he finally succumbed to the mercy of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this was a long fic...  
> again give lots of love to my friend @iwovepizza for writing a lot of this fic!
> 
> please comment, kudos, and do what ever else you do on a fanfic!
> 
> (also be prepared for more pain the the up-coming chapters...)


	2. Chapter 2

_“People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death._

_Life hurts a lot more than death._

_At the point of death, the pain is over.”_

_−Jim Morrison_

\----Ӝ----

 

            Pain and warmth were the first things Kaz felt when he came to.

            His head felt fuzzy, like he was drunk, and yet his lips didn’t taste of brandy, nor of any other kind of liquor. But he did taste a different tang, metallic and familiar on his tongue. Although Kaz could not quite place it, he boiled it down to either being salt or blood, perhaps both.

            Kaz's immediate concern was where the taste had come from.

            A street brawl? A gunfight?

            He tried to sit up to observe his surroundings, but the sharp ache in his bones told him quite clearly that it was not, in fact, time to get up. He reluctantly settled for sizing up the room with only his eyes.

            He was home.

            He was in his own bed. In his own room.

            Sunlight pooled from the window, and Kaz had to squint against the glare as he continued to look around. Papers were piled high on a makeshift desk, despite the fact that he’d mostly taken to using the desk in his office, and an array of old black gloves sitting on his vanity. They were either still needing to be unwrapped, or soaked in blood. Everything in his room seemed to be in order, or as least as orderly as a 19 year old gang leader could keep a room.

            The next concern was how he’d gotten here, since he was pretty sure this wasn’t the place where he’d fallen asleep.

            The last thing Kaz could remember was...

            His breathing quickened as panic set in. A million reasons sprung up in his head as to why he was here and not back at the mansion.

            Maybe he’d fought Espenov off and had escaped.

            No that couldn't be it; he’d blacked out and both his legs were broken. There was no way he’d made it back to the slat in one piece. Besides, even if he’d managed to get away from Espenov, the mercher would surely be tearing up the city to find him.

            Espenov could’ve dropped him back here, could’ve lugged his unconscious body back to the Slat and dumped him at the steps for the Dregs to find him, but that didn’t make sense; Espenov had said so himself that he'd never let Kaz go, that he'd make Kaz a toy, a pet.

            And even if he had let Kaz come back home, at the very least that means he...

            A fresh wave of panic surged through Kaz’s veins as he scrambled to fling himself from bed. He wasn't thinking. His head was pounding as black spots danced in front of his vision.

            His friends...where were they? Inej...where was she? He couldn't see, couldn't even breathe as he struggled to take in air, his lungs feeling as if they’d turned to lead in his chest. Kaz dared not open his mouth for fear that a scream would come out instead of words and he’d drop dead on that very spot.

            Hands were on him, grabbing his back and snatching at his clothes as they tried to pin him down. Fighting against them, Kaz shrieked and struggled like a helpless animal, to the point where he almost wanted to laugh. What a pitiful display; one of the most powerful men in the Barrel, squealing like a rat caught in a trap.

            _This rat won't go down without a fight_ , Kaz thought.

            Twisting himself around he tried to kick the hands away. Two screams tore through the air as he struck a blow:

            His own, as a sharp, terrible pain shot through his leg, which was still broken.

            The second scream made Kaz jump in a way his terrors never did. The scream was a higher octave than his, feminine and familiar.

            “Inej?!”

            Kaz managed to wrench himself out of the delirium, and saw Inej, stumbling backwards and bracing herself as she slammed against the wall. He tried to rush over to her, to see if he’d hurt her badly, but his legs disagreed with him and told him to stay on the floor.

            After a moment or two, Inej brushed herself off − in hindsight being kicked by a broken leg didn’t do anything more than startle her− and she strode over to him. The look in her eyes irked Kaz, as if she saw him as nothing more than a wounded animal that needed to be coddled.

            “Before you see if I somehow broke my neck in a half-asleep frenzy tell me what happened last night,” Kaz barked, though his voice came out as nothing more than a rasp that was barely comprehensible.

            “Kaz, I−”

            “Tell me what happened last night,” he croaked, his hands trembling as he forced his leaden lungs to cooperate and breathe when he wanted them to. “Now.”

            He tried to look angry, but he knew that the reason why Inej spoke next was more out of pity than anything else, pity that he neither needed nor wanted. She gave a sigh before she took a seat in front of the desk and leaned against it, propping herself up on her elbows.

            “Nothing…” she sighed, running a hand down her face. “Nothing happened. He didn’t…he didn’t do anything to you.”

            “He didn’t?” Kaz whispered, wanting to sob with relief, but he choked it down as he buried his face in his hands.

            “No. No, I got to him before that could happen, but,” her lips curled bitterly, “he came pretty damn close.”

            “How did you stop him?”

            “I…I stabbed him. Threw him off of you and made sure that you weren’t dead. I…I covered you, then sent for the other crows.”

            “Covered me…?” Kaz took a second to process what she’d said, and his blood turned to ice in his veins when he remembered how far Espenov had gotten. How close he’d been.

            “Yeah,” Inej murmured, wringing her hands. “If it makes you feel any better, we grabbed the rest of the money, got the hell out of there, then lit that saintsforsaken place on fire.”

            Kaz’s eyes slipped closed as his head fell back. At least they’d gotten the money.

            _But was it really that fucking worth it?_ a voice in his head sneered, and Kaz’s hands curled into fists in his lap. No, it hadn’t been worth it, not in the slightest, and the realization hit him like a freight train.

            Inej took a moment to pause then looked at him in the eyes for the first time since Kaz had woken up. “I know we’ve silently agreed not to discuss how we’re feeling but…how are you, Kaz?”

            Kaz shook his head, laughing bitterly, “I know he gave me a fair beat down. The worst of the damage is my good leg is broken. We'll need to get a Healer for that.”

            Kaz dug his fingers into his mattress and attempted to haul himself off the floor and onto the bed, and when Inej saw him struggling, she came to his aid.

            As soon as she extended her hands in an attempt to help, Kaz let out a growl, shoved her off, and refused any assistance during the tedious minutes that it took to drag himself up and prop himself up on the headboard.

            “Here's the deal,” he deadpanned, leveling her with an icy stare. “No one is allowed to know what really happened. All you need to tell them is I fooled Markus Espenov, you and I tag-teamed him, and we ran out of there with our weight in kruge, got it?"

            Inej nodded in understanding, before she told him, “Jesper, Wylan, and Nina should know, if they haven’t figured it out already.”

            Kaz scowled, refusing to look at her.

            “Kaz, you can’t just keep this to yourself. They’ll find out anyway, whether you like it or not.”

            After a few more moments of staring each other down, Kaz conceded, “Very well. Call a Healer to fix my leg first then tell them what I told you.”

             She nodded in acknowledgement before disappearing quietly, slipping out the window without a sound.

            Kaz watched the empty air where she’d once been before groaning and lying down. He wasn’t at all tired− the amount of rest he got while unconscious left him feeling very much awake− so he stared at the ceiling, counting the wooden boards to keep his mind away from darker places.

           

\----Ӝ----

  
           He was always there, in every single dream.

            Rough hands would grab him from behind, digging bruises into his skin.

            Limp and broken, Kaz could do nothing but cry and hope that the sheets beneath him would swallow him up, and every time he drifted off, nameless and faceless the man would appear, with nothing distinguishable about him except the suffocating stench of smoke and liquor that clogged Kaz's nose and throat.

            That horrible, horrible smell let Kaz know exactly who it was that was haunting him.

            Kissing and cooing, Espenov would act like Kaz was his lover and this was all a game. Such a game was only fun for the winning side, despite the man's husky murmuring into his ear:

            “Hush. We're just having fun. We're just having a little fun.”

            He promised Kaz jewels, money, power, or− in the particularly horrible ones− love.

            Sometimes Kaz would be screaming for Espenov to stop, kicking and yelling until the bitter end, but other times he stared off emptily and just let it happen, slumping into the sheets and closing his eyes to imagine he was someplace else.

            His reaction depended on what Espenov was doing, really.

            The man would be gentle sometimes, his touches feather-light as they ghosted over his skin and his lips tender as they trailed kisses down his spine. Those instances were few and far between, though; most of the time Espenov would be ruthless, his hands offering no mercy as they clamped down onto Kaz's hips and shoved his face into the pillow, smothering Kaz’s sobs as blood ran in rivers down his thighs.

            The worst dreams, though, were the ones that felt good, the ones where Kaz woke up with a tent in his pants. There was never a mess in the sheets− he knew these dreams could never bring about that− but he knew that he'd come pretty damn close once or twice.

            In these dreams, instead of fighting or going limp, he was an active participant.

            The blinding pain was replaced by burning pleasure. He opened his mouth and a needy moan tumbled from his lips instead of a desperate scream, and instead of begging Espenov to stop he would beg for him to continue.

            Those nights he would wake up and immediately hate himself, hate his mind for molding a pleasurable scenario from a terrible reality, and he'd be too afraid to close his eyes afterward, staring into the dark as the sound of the headboard cracking into the wall echoed in his mind.

            It got progressively worse, to the point where Espenov's contempt sneer haunted him even when he blinked, and it didn't take long for the Dregs to notice that something was awry.

            “Here's the coffee you asked for,” Anika murmured as she set the steaming mug down onto Kaz's desk. He didn't look up, his eyes glued to an important letter that he'd been reading for the past half hour, his gaze raking over the lines of print without actually processing what the words meant. “Have you slept?”

            “The bar needs cleaning,” was Kaz's response, “Tell one of the newbies to do it.”

            “When was the last time you stepped out of this musty office?” Anika prompted, wrinkling her nose. “You should get up, stretch your legs.”

            “You're in no position to be giving me suggestions. Get out.”

            There was nothing more she could've said, so Anika obeyed.

            Night after night he stayed awake, consuming copious amounts of coffee and forcing his eyes open until he passed out on his desk, nightmares plaguing him when he did so. He always woke up screaming and scrabbling at the desk, scattering papers and tipping inkwells before finally managing to calm his raging heart.

            Eventually he didn't just avoid sleep, he feared it.

            As he threw himself into his work, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of terror as he anticipated the next time his body would force himself to rest. He feared the nightmares like no other, feared what they did to him, and many nights were spent hunched over his desk, clutching at his hair and trying to even out his breathing as his eyelids grew leaden.

            He did fear his nightmares, but he feared talking to people about them even more. People in general began to terrify him. Every man that he encountered wore Espenov's face, and every brush of hands on him, even if it was on accident and there was fabric shielding his skin, made him want to vomit.

            To avoid this, he holed up in his office.

            He only ate when food was brought to him and only bathed when Inej yelled at him for not doing so, and it came to the point where he'd once pissed himself because he'd been too afraid of encountering someone on the way to the washroom.

            “Kaz, you have to snap out of it," Inej murmured, and he didn't meet her eyes, twirling a coin idly in his fingers and leaning his head on his hand. “You look like a corpse, and smell like one, for that matter.”

            The attempt at humor fell flat as Kaz still refused to acknowledge her. He hated Inej seeing him like this. He wanted her to leave, wanted her to go far away so she wouldn't have to look at him, but he couldn't make his throat work.

            “Kaz, talk to me. Please. Say something.”

            “Leave,” he rasped, choking on the word.

            And so she did.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

            It was only when his own stench started getting to him that Kaz grudgingly decided that it was time to take a shower. The smell of himself only served to make him more stressed and uncomfortable, and he thought it’d be better to suffer through a few minutes of terror than grow even more miserable in the long run. Despite this logic, though, he still hesitated; the idea of cold water seeping around him was not a pleasant thought.

            As he stood in the Dregs’ common washroom, worrying his lip as he eyed the shower stalls, he decided that he’d just wash his hands. It was simple enough, it took less effort than actual bathing, and it would help him build up the courage to step into the shower stalls later.

            His cane propped up against the wall nearby, he didn’t dare look in the mirror hanging over the sink as he lathered his hands up with soap, fearing what kind of monster he would see staring back at him through the cracked glass.

            His heart was racing.

            _It’s just washing your hands,_ he told himself and forced his lungs to steady their breathing before he could hyperventilate. _Just washing your hands._

_“Little bird of mine, why do you cry?”_

Kaz ground his teeth together, screwing his eyes shut as if that would somehow manage to keep Espenov’s voice out of his head, but that only served to bring him back to the dream world.

            _His hands were clutching the rim the sink in Espenov’s bathroom, his head bowed over it as tears dripped down the drain. He tried to keep his bare feet planted on the ground, but with every other breath he was shoved up onto his toes and back down again. He whined softly, making a move to get away, but Espenov’s rough hands kept his hips in place, flush against his own._

_“Easy, easy,” Espenov murmured soothingly into his ear, fingers rubbing circles into Kaz’s skin and causing gooseflesh to rise. Kaz’s head felt too heavy to lift, and it sagged in between his shoulders, his chin tucked against his chest as he struggled to take back the breaths that were being punched out of him. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you crying?”_

_“I don’t…” His sentence was interrupted by a sharp sigh that had forced its way out of his throat, “…I don’t like it.”_

_“You’re contradicting yourself,” Espenov whispered against Kaz’s skin, “You say you’re not enjoying yourself, but the beautiful songs you’re singing are telling me otherwise.”_

_“I don’t want you doing this to me.”_

_“Why is that?” Espenov asked. “You’re having fun. Your body is telling me that you’re loving every second of it.”_

_“But−”_

_“Why don’t you like something that feels good?” He nibbled at Kaz’s earlobe. “Why are you ignoring the fact that your body was made for this, made for me? You were a gift from the Saints to me, like Eve was a gift to Adam. This is where you belong, under me, taking what I give you.”_

_“No, no, no−”More tears were falling. “No, I’m more than that. I’m not your slave.”_

_“Are you sure about that?”_

_He wasn’t sure what was worse: the question or the fact that he couldn’t answer it._

By the time he was finally able to wrench himself away, the water had been running over his hands for a while. He'd just been standing there, hunched over the sink and letting the water run through his fingers. His heart was slamming against his ribcage, his breathing labored, and he quickly turned off the faucet, wiping his trembling hands on his pants.

            He looked up for a second and his eyes met with those of his reflection.

            Tired and terrified eyes. Pale, sunken skin. Rumpled, gritty hair.

            Inej was right, he did look like a corpse, and he scowled, about to look away before movement behind him caught his eye in the corner of the mirror.

He'd thought it was a shadow, but no; it was a man. Kaz's breath sawed in and out of his lungs as his eyes zeroed in on it. It had brown hair, a vest, a smile. Kaz's vision filled with red, panic seeping into his bones.

            For a moment, they both were as still as stone, their eyes locked in the mirror. It came closer.

            Kaz’s heart leapt into his throat.

            He was panting now, his lungs seeming to grow twice as large every time he took a breath, demanding more air but receiving none. It was the only sound in the room, aside from the blood that was roaring in his ears.

            The shadow spoke, “Sir, are you oka−”

            With one swift motion a dagger slipped from Kaz's sleeve and ripped the shadow's throat open. Blood spurted from the wound, splattering onto Kaz's shirt and clothes, and a small spark was lit inside him; the act of bringing down an enemy gave him pleasure in a way nothing else could. As the figure crumpled to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut, and Kaz had to stop and just _breathe_ for a few moments before the red cleared from his vision.

            As he stared down at the wilted form, blood pooling around it, it dawned on him this wasn’t the normal shadow that haunted him. It had a familiar face, but not in the way that Kaz thought it did. Leaning down Kaz realized this was a person; a real living and breathing person, not the phantom and cruel monster that leered at him on a day to day basis. It didn’t take him long to recognize who it was:

            Finn Kerstan.

            He was a relatively new member of the Dregs; he was taking jobs to fund his sister's hospital bill, and had seemed like a well-rounded kid. He couldn't have been older than fifteen.

            An Kaz had just killed him.

            The sight of Finn’s bloody corpse caused bile to rise up in Kaz’s throat, and he proceeded to vomit on the washroom floor, cringing as it mixed in with the slowly growing puddle of blood that was already there. Kaz stood there, panting and huffing and trying to figure out what to do with the body.

            There was no way he could come clean about murdering the boy; a Barrel Boss only took out one of their own if that person was planning something against them. If that wasn’t the case, then it was basically the equivalent of a war crime, and there was no doubt that the own members of his gang would follow the code and avenge their comrade’s death.

            He had to frame Finn for something if he was going to live through the next day.

            Trying to regain his composure, he limped over to the sink and washed off his face. He produced a golden pin from his pocket, something he'd stolen from a member of the Razorgulls during a raid, and rolled it around in his fingers.

            It didn’t take long for the Dregs to find him.

            They asked questions, grilled him for information, and he simply showed them the pin, claiming he’d found it in Finn’s pocket. He’d been working as a spy for the Razorgulls and had tried to kill Kaz only moments before, though they could see how that ended up. Finn did, however, manage to get in a sucker punch, which explained the vomit on the ground.

            He thought his voice sounded off, raw and unnatural and not at all how it sounded when he usually lied, but the Dregs seemed to buy it, and he assigned people to dispose of the body and clean up the mess on the floor.

            The only one who wasn’t convinced was Inej.

            He hadn’t expected her to be; she could read him like an open book even when he was at full health. In this state of mind, though, he might as well have been telling her all of his secrets himself. She didn’t call him out, though. Didn’t demand the true explanation.

            The only thing she did was ask: “What are we going to do about his sister?”

             Kaz said nothing. He didn't want to think about her right now.

            “Don’t do anything, for now.”

             He gave no further explanation before he turned on his heel and hobbled out of the room, back up to his office. He didn't want to think about a helpless person. He might start to feel like one. There would be no shower today, that was for sure.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

            As the weeks dragged on, Kaz began to hate his life more and more, almost as much as he hated himself. Espenov's voice would taunt him in his exhaustion-induced delirium, berating and mocking him until he passed out. His back and neck ached, and he was in serious need of a bath and a shave, but fear and guilt kept him rooted to his chair, kept him working and working and working until he physically couldn't work anymore.

            The nightmares came down and they came down hard, and they began to change setting even more. Now he wasn't just lying in Espenov's giant bed or even his house.

            Now he was in his own bed.

            In the common room.

            In the washtub.

            Bent over the bar.

            On his own desk.

            He couldn't even work anymore without thinking about how in his previous dream he'd been sprawled out on this exact desk and begging for it like a whore.

            Kaz couldn't handle it.

            He couldn't handle Espenov's ghost haunting him, infesting his mind like a disease.

            Would it be like this forever?

            The thought made him want to throw up; up until that point, his entire life had been riding on the shoulders of the theory that this whole thing would blow over in time. But now that he knew that this could be permanent, he could be living like this forever, he decided that that simply wasn't a misery that he wanted to suffer through.

            _“What's the matter, pichske uccesco?”_ _Espenov crooned to him that night from behind him. He was always behind him. “You getting tired of me?”_

_“Yes, yes, yes,” Kaz sobbed, his nails scrabbling the bar as he lurched forward. He tried to raise his head, but Espenov's hand was fisted into his hair, grinding the side of his face into the wood. “Just leave me alone! Please!”_

_“But why would I want to give you up? You give me so much pleasure. I look forward to this, the time I have with you. You're mine, do you hear? You will always be mine, my beautiful little bird.”_

_Kaz choked on another sob and went limp, staring off into nothing as he took what was given to him without any more complaint._

            That day, he picked up his pen and with a trembling hand began to scrawl out a note to Inej. Not to Jesper or Nina or Wylan or any of the other Dregs. No, this was for Inej and Inej alone.

            His handwriting was sloppy, the words jumbled because his hand was shaking so hard, but it got the point across:

 

_My darling Inej,_

_You're the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on in the entirety of the world, and I don't care for anyone else more than I care for you. I'm writing you this letter to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger, I'm sorry I couldn't stick it out and work through it like I usually do, and I'm sorry that I wasn't all that kind. But I'm so tired of fighting. I'm tired of being scared to sleep and leave my office, tired of being so cruel to you and shutting you out because I didn't want you to see me like this. If this is living, then I don't want any part of it anymore. Just know that I'm still thinking of you, I'm never not thinking of you._

_Kaz._

            It took him several drafts to get it just right.

            He wanted Inej to know that he loved her without saying it explicitly, wanted her to know that he'd stuck it out for as long as he was able to do so. She'd saved him so many times, but this time was out of her control, and he didn't blame her for that. There was nothing she could've done.

            He left the letter on top of his desk, knowing that that was the first place they'd look. After a half hour of rummaging around in all of his closets and drawers, he concluded that all of his guns had been stolen, carefully removed from the area by clever hands. The only person why could steal something from him while he was in the room was Inej, and he ground his teeth together when he realized that she’d been worrying about him and had taken the guns so that he couldn’t do the one thing he was planning on at the moment.

            He was going to have to do this the harder way, then.

            With a heavy breath, he staggered into the washroom after making sure that nobody was around to see him.

            Closing the door and locking it, he walked over to his favorite niche between the tub and the wall and slid down, suddenly overcome by sadness.

            Tears dribbled down his cheeks as he cursed himself and Espenov silently, his eyes screwing shut as he hugged his knees to his chest. He stayed like that for a while, allowing the sorrow bear down on him like a physical weight, before taking in a shaky breath as his resolved thickened and blanketed him in a blissful numbness.

            He took off his gloves, setting them beside him before producing his switchblade from his pants pocket. Swallowing, he watched as the blade flipped out with a soft click.

            This blade had shed so much blood, but not once had he thought that it would one day shed his own.

            It didn't take long to make the first cut, and he hissed quietly as he gouged a crude vertical line into his left wrist. Blood immediately began to gush forth, his skin staining a dark crimson color as he severed a vein. The other wrist took more time and the cut was uglier than the first, the fingers on his left hand refusing to cooperate and his grip weak as he bled rivers.

            But then it was done, and he let out a shaky breath and leaned his head against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut as blood pooled around him, soaking into his pants and creeping along the tiled floor. He was already lightheaded, but he breathed through it, and with his eyes closed he was no longer haunted by Espenov.

            Instead, he saw Inej.

            Inej smiling and laughing.

            Inej shoving him lightly when he said something stupid.

            Inej holding his hand in hers as a part of their exercises to get him used to touch.

            Inej holding his hand just for fun as they walked down the piers and looked at all the vessels, the Suli girl pointing out all of the special parts about them and serenating Kaz with all of the boat knowledge she'd accumulated during her time at sea.

            Inej angry, a cute redness tinging her cheeks as she scolded Kaz for something he didn't remember.

            “Inej,” he murmured softly, a smile tugging at his lips. He was pretty sure his eyes were open, but black had consumed his vision.

            He was free.

            Free from Espenov.

            Fear from fear and pain.

            Free at last.

            At last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long update. Gigi and I ran into some problems trying to make this chapter long enough and I had Hell Week for my school musical, keeping me away from my computer and out of the house until nine o'clock every night. Hope you all liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

_“Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We are nothing but dust and to dust we shall return. Amen."_

_\- Alexander Anderson_

-Ӝ-

 

     Inej wasn't exactly truthful when she’d told Kaz about what had happened at the mansion.

     It wasn't like she'd lied about it; she just hadn't told him everything. Yes, she'd killed Markus, checked on Kaz, called the other crows, and high-tailed the fuck out of there, but there was more to it more than that.

-Ӝ-

     She was late.

     That was the _one_ thing Inej wasn’t allowed to be that night; she was allowed to be ruthless or merciful, careful or brash, calm or nervous, but she was _not_ allowed to be late. It wasn't exactly her fault, but it didn't matter whether it was her fault or not; all that mattered was that she was late and there’d be hell to pay.

     Everything was going exactly how it should've; Kaz was inside the house and most likely picking the lock on the window after stuffing the handkerchief into the door, and with the rest of the Dregs acting as a diversion, Inej, Wylan, Jesper, and Nina had successfully snuck onto the grounds without detection.

     They were on their way to the front door when one of Wylan's smoke bombs had started to leak, alerting a couple of guards to their presence and triggering the start of a vicious brawl, one that was now in full swing.

     The dogs charged with gnashing teeth and frothing mouths, blurs of brown and black fur as they snapped at the Dregs’ ankles and tore at their clothes. While Jesper tried to shoot at their masters− his aim faulty as the dogs leapt at him− Nina threw sharpened bones at the hounds themselves, her precision deadly as they buried themselves into the dogs' fur and sliced open organs and throats.

     More guards poured in, an uncountable number that astounded even the Dregs, despite having faced off with an army of drüskelle beforehand, and the sheer amount of enemies was enough to daunt them, not to mention their skill.

     Realizing that the dogs were upsetting Jesper's aim, Wylan tag teamed with him, the two standing back to back as Wylan threw flash bombs and Jesper handed out headshots. Every so often, a knife would glitter in Wylan’s hand whenever a hound came near, and it always ended with the dog dead on the ground and the knife disappearing once more. It made Inej wonder if Kaz had taught him a little sleight of hand, and the reminder of Kaz only heightened the urgency of the situation.

     A few years ago, Inej might've been the weak link in a brawl like this− without the element of surprise, she was at a disadvantage− but two years of battles on the high seas had left her quite skilled in hand to hand combat.

     Some of the people she went up against died, their throat cut or knife wounds in their heads or chests, but some of them merely collapsed, writhing in agony.

     If a stray bullet or knife didn’t kill them, then the trampling they’d be subjected to surely would.

     Despite the adrenaline rush of the fight, all Inej could think of was Kaz, who must've gotten to the bathroom at this point. He was farther along in the plan than her, and once again she was behind. She needed to get out of this fight as fast as possible.

     Inej knew that Kaz didn't necessarily need her, as she him, but two years had passed, and they'd come so far. Kaz had held her hands with no gloves separating their skin, hugged her for longer than a moment, and even gave her a kiss; during Saint Peter's festival in Ravka, Kaz had taken her into a corner and given her peck on the cheek. His lips were light and merely fluttered against her face, but she'd treasured it all the same.

     And now it could all be taken away; she was supposed to be there for him, supposed to be keeping him safe and keeping all of their hard work safe, but instead she was fighting in a yard.

     It continued on as more and more guards joined the melee, but it wasn't long before their numbers dwindled and only a few stragglers remained.

     A shrill cry cut through the sounds of knives clashing and gunshots.

     Few heard it, too busy fighting for their lives as they let out cries of their own, but Inej was the only one listening.

     It had come from the house.

     Panic gave her no warning; it crashed into Inej so fast her head spun.

     As she saw the last guard's brains go out the back of his head thanks to Jesper's guns, she sprinted to the wall. Climbing had always felt like flying to her, but the dread of what she might see when she got there weighed her down. The wall was easily scaled, and as she reached the sill and peered into what she could only assume was a bathroom, horror settled into her gut.

     The bathroom door was ajar, giving Inej a glimpse into a sliver of the bedroom beyond, and the first thing that caught her attention was the blood splattered onto the floor. Her breathing quickened when sounds drifted through the crack in the window, sounds that were a lot like the one she'd first heard:

     Someone was screaming, and she'd always associated these kinds of desperate, pleading shrieks and sobs with a wretched slaver groveling at her feet, under her knife; but these screams were only meant for the tortured, the deserving. Something told her that they weren’t coming from Espenov.

     Inej fumbled with the window, her desperation mounting as each sob drifting from the other room grew softer. Wearier.

     Defeated.

     Thankfully the window's lock was undone, Kaz must've gotten to it before…

     Inej threw the window up and dove into the bathroom, giving herself no time to land as she dashed as fast as she could into the other room, and although her steps were hurried, they were still silent.

     Her vision went red. Her mind only processed small things, but it was enough.

     Inej didn't even have time to think as she threw the knife, and it leapt from her hand like a bird from its cage, piercing the larger man's neck. Blood exploded from the wound, bright vermillion as the blade severed an artery, and the man made a gurgling sound, his final words as he fell to the ground.

     The roaring of her heart eased and she took a second to process what was happening.

     She'd just killed Markus. That wasn't a part of the strategy; she was supposed to come in and hold a chloroform kerchief to his nose so that he could wake the next day to find himself a much poorer man.

     She didn't care, though, because she knew that Espenov didn't deserve the luxury to live, and those feelings only hardened when her gaze drifted to Kaz.

     Her feet carried her to the bedside of their own accord, and she went cold all over as she took in the sight of him; his knee was purple and swelling, he had cuts and scrapes covering him from head to toe. He'd tried to fight back, but Inej remembered the sob that she'd heard.

     Defeat.

     Tears stained his face, something Inej that made her stomach churn in a way death and gore never could.

     He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving?

     Frantically, she grabbed his wrist she desperately searched for a pulse; Espenov was obviously a twisted man, and she wouldn't put it past him to murder his victims before the action.

     Faintly, she felt a rhythm. It was small and weak, but it was there. He was alive.  

     Relief and sorrow warred for dominance inside Inej’s head, and a ragged sigh escaped from Inej's lips as she pressed her forehead against the back of Kaz's hand, taking in the feeling of his heart fluttering like a moth's wings against her fingertips.

     A gurgling sound shattered the peace, and Inej turned sharply, her lips quirking as she saw Espenov's body spasming in pain. Inej would soon fix that. Strutting over to the body pulled out the knife, ending the noise as soon as it had come. Blood poured from his mouth, pooling faster now that there wasn't anything holding it back, and the sharp tang of it in her nose gave her a rush, a need to see more of it flowing.

     She turned back to Kaz lying on the bed, unconscious and frail, and rage surged through her veins like someone had set firecrackers off under her skin. She straddled the body, raised her knife up, and brought it down. Over and over, she stabbed him.

     Blood splattered onto her face and hands and soaked into her clothes. She relished in it, bathed in it, her feelings pouring into the knife with every time it sawed in and out of Espenov's flesh. This man was everything she'd feared, every man that had come to her at the Menagerie.

     Each puncture was another one of them dead. They all needed to suffer, he needed to suffer. He didn't scream, he was too dead for that, and Inej’s fury ebbed, leaving her covered in blood and scrambling to catch her breath.

     Slightly shaken at how she hadn't been able to control herself, Inej staggered to her feet and stared down at the misshapen shape that was lying where the body was once in.

     His skin and organs were minced so finely she couldn't tell what was blood and what was flesh. Even the eyes were gone, two scarlet holes where they'd once sat. Idly, she wondered if Kaz had rubbed off on her; not once in her life would she ever think that she'd be the cause of something like this; atrocities like this one were usually credited to the Bastard of the Barrel, not to his sly Wraith, who was the one to perform the clean stealth kills.

     She shook her head sadly, more disappointed in herself for losing control more than disappointed that she’d mangled the body, and the blood weighed down her clothes and dripping in her wake as she returned to the bedside.

     Inej needed backup, but she knew Kaz would be mortified if they saw him like this. Gently, she uprooted the sheets and laid them over him. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could do before she ran to the window and whistled, a shrill, bird-like sound they were only supposed to use if something in went wrong.

     Something had gone wrong indeed.

     Even from a distance, she saw the others turn sharply at the sound, making a beeline for the front door, and Inej dashed out of the room. She hated to leave Kaz, but now that the only threat to him had been turned into a fleshy shape that had once resembled a man, she was a bit more reassured.

     Peeking out the door, she saw that there were only a few guards left in the house, as most had run outside to try and kill them. It was funny how the only guards remaining were the cowards.

 _They're the reason I was late, they're the reason Kaz is in the state he is now_ , she thought, the rage inside of her rearing its head once more.

     They were dead before they could process what was going on, and after making sure that the coast was clear she padded down the hall and slunk down the stairs. Just as she reached the bottom, Nina kicked the front door open, even though Kaz had make sure it was unlocked. The Heartrender was always one for some flourish.

     The four of them easily dispatched those who tried to stop them, but most of their would-be enemies fled rather than fought as the group rushed upstairs, Inej leading them to the room where Kaz was.

     Just as they reached the door, Inej stopped them.

     "We need to be very careful going in. You guys might not like what's inside," she muttered.

     Jesper gave a huff, "You gave the emergency whistle. We came inside expecting things like this!"

     "I know, it's just," Inej paused, "It's very bad."

     Taking a deep breath, Inej opened the door a sliver and they all slipped inside. Nobody commented or tried to ask about the thing that was once a corpse and the amount of viscera around it, but all of them seemed quite startled nonetheless. There was no panic, though, only surprise, and Wylan− whom Inej had expected to be the queasiest out of them all− even sneered at the corpse, his face only going white when he looked to the bed.

     “This is…quite the surprise,” Nina murmured, only sparing a glance at the body as she bustled over to Kaz to examine him.

     While she checked his pulse and tried to figure out what kind of condition he was in, Jesper stared at the corpse, his expression unreadable as he walked over and bent down to get a closer look.

      A silence settled into the room, no one knowing quite what to say.

     After a few moments that could’ve easily been hours, Jesper spit on the corpse before growling, "I can't even really tell what this is, but I hate it.”

     He turned to Inej, making the situation even more unnerving at the grim, very un-Jesper-like expression on his face. "What happened?”

     Inej shook her head and chuckled, but it there was no humor in it.

     "Well, by how it ended up you can probably piece together most of it. I rushed in and saw…"

     Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to talk about what happened, but she knew couldn't keep the others in the dark. She told them everything.

     Inej wasn’t sure what was worse; the retelling of the events themselves or the fact that there was no surprise on her friends’ faces during the entirety of it; they’d known at heart what kind of man Espenov was, and she wondered why she hadn’t seen the signs before.

     "How bad is it?" she asked Nina, breaking the heavy silence that was like the coils of a snake as it constricted the life out of all of them.

     "He's pretty banged up. His good leg is broken at the knee.” She looked up, her face schooled but her eyes grave. "It's not a clean break. It must've taken a few hits before it shattered. They must've had a fight beforehand, since he's also got bruises."

     Wylan picked his way over to the bed; despite his earlier reactions, it was clear that he wanted to be as far from the corpse as possible. "How could Kaz let this happen?”

     Inej turned to him sharply. “Are you saying that this was Kaz’s fault?”

     “No, certainly not!” Wylan retorted, flustered. “But hasn’t Kaz fought the entirety of the Dregs before? What was so different about Espenov?"

     “I don’t know. Why doesn’t the circus lion fight when it sees the trainer’s whip? Even the strongest of monsters can’t fight when its teeth and claws are taken away.”

     "Did he…?" Jesper paused, struggling to get the words out. "Was he able to….?" The question fell just short of being asked, but it was still understood by everyone.

     Nina shook her head. "Kaz is fine in that regard."

     Jesper exhaled raggedly through clenched teeth, running a hand down his face.

     "I knew he shouldn't have taken this job. He looked so out of his element when I walked him to the Lucky Lady." Jesper eyes glittered with unshed tears, but he was doing his damndest to keep it together. "He looked fucking terrified."

     "I should've just done the job like he wanted me too," Wylan whispered. "This never would've happened if I just…" His voice gave out, guilt and regret still heavy on his lips.

     "But if you've gone then this would've happened to you!" Inej insisted. "And even then, you can't pick locks, or even do well in hand to hand combat. The only reason Kaz isn't in worse shape is because he put up a good fight. Who knows what he would've done to you?"

     Wylan looked up and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it as he wiped furiously at his eyes.

     "So, now what?" Jesper wondered aloud. "Espenov is dead, and so is most of the staff. Should we just get out of here?"

     Inej shook her head. "This night was a lot of things, but I don't want to add unsuccessful to the growing list of adjectives. We should get to the money downstairs, grab that, then get out."

     Nina nodded in agreement. "There's nothing stopping us from just getting what we want; our biggest threat is dead and so are most of the guards. I say we do it."

     "What about Kaz?" Wylan asked. "We can't leave him here."

     "Then we won't," Jesper deadpanned, turning to Nina and asking, "Can you carry him? I need my hands free for my guns."

     The heartrender nodded and wrapped Kaz in one of the sheets, picking him up as if he were made of feathers and string rather than flesh and bone. His form was limp her arms, and if Inej didn't know any better, she'd think he was dead.

     Even knowing better it still unnerved her.

     They all knew the layout of the mansion by heart at this point, and made their way down to the lower floors. It would’ve taken less time if they hadn’t been so cautious, but after all that had happened, they didn’t think recklessness would be the best option.

     "For a skinny guy he sure does weigh a ton,” Nina huffed after a while, her confidence in carrying Kaz having long since faded.

     Inej almost smiled at this, but kept focused on the task at hand. They came to a set of stairs that led down, different than the ones that led into the main hall. There were still guards slinking about, so they tried to make their presence unknown as to not pick any more fights.

     Or as unknown as a group of people covered in blood who'd killed half the guards could be.

     The next tasks were definitely the easiest of the night. Nina stayed behind to watch their backs and Kaz while Inej, Wylan, and Jesper jumped some guards, who didn't look the slightest bit surprised when they'd lunged from the shadows and shot them full of lead. The three teens grabbed fistfuls of kruge and jewels and dumped them into burlap sacks, shoving the crisp bills and glittering gems into their pockets and folds of their clothes once the bags couldn’t hold anything more.

     As soon as they met back up with Nina, high tailed the fuck out of there. Their exit from the house was a blur, and Inej was only jolted back to her senses when they were running across the yard and Wylan shouted for them to stop.

     Inej looked back, heart pounding in her ears; the last thing she wanted to do was wait, and the anxiety she hadn't allowed herself to feel was snaking through her ribs and constricting her heart. Wylan rifled through his bag for a few moments before gingerly taking out a grenade, and Inej was glad that it hadn’t exploded during the scuffle.

     His eyes glittering with an emotion that was borderline maniacal, Wylan pulled the pin from the grenade and hurled it as hard as he could at the house, watching as it shattered a window and rolled into one of the parlors.

     “We should go,” he breathed as he threw his pack over one shoulder and took off toward the main gate, motioning for them to follow, and Inej didn’t have to be told twice as the grenade exploded, flames licking at her heels as the house almost immediately collapsed in on itself.

     Inej almost wanted to look back at the house erupting in flames, but she didn't let herself; she couldn't count this as a victory.

     She could only see forward, to what the terrible tomorrow had in store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update took such a long time! We're so sorry about that! We decided that the chapter we were writing would be better off of we put the flashback as one chapter and the continuation as another chapter. Of course, we had to put the flashback first because we want y'all to be chomping at the bit to see what happens to Kaz. >:)


	4. Chapter 4

 

_“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”_

\----Ӝ----

 

            Inej knew she had to confront him as soon as she snooped around his desk.

            It was during one of the rare occasions he left his office, perhaps to go to the bathroom, and Inej had taken the opportunity to poke her nose into the room that was hardly ever empty.

            It was dusty and smelled awful, like sweat and spilled ink, and she wrinkled her nose as she stalked over to the desk, keeping her ears strained for the telltale sound of approaching footsteps. Papers littered the floor, some blank and others muddled with an almost indecipherable scrawl that Inej struggled to understand.

            Frowning, she came up behind the chair and stared down at the desk, which looked as if it had been ravaged by a hurricane. Pens and inkwells were lost among a sea of crumpled papers, and nestled right in the center was a little folded note.

            Unlike its brethren, it was unwrinkled, and Inej would’ve opened it up had she not seen the monumental bill unfurled right beside it. The sheer amount of kruge was enough to make her head spin, and as she shuffled through the various papers and other bills, she couldn’t help but sigh to herself.

            These were past due, unfinished, and unorganized. For all of the time Kaz spent inside of his office, he sure didn’t do that much, and her eyes widened as she picked up a letter from the leader of the Black Tips that had demanded an answer by yesterday afternoon.

            Kaz Brekker was the most methodical gang leader in the entirety of Ketterdam, and there was no way that he’d allow all these things to clutter on his desk in such a disorganized manner. That is, he wouldn’t allow it if he was in his right mind.

            Kaz had many ups and downs, so she hadn’t been all that worried when he’d started closing himself off, but this was the final straw; there was something deeper going on here that didn’t have to do with one of Kaz’s usual mood swings.

            She supposed that she should offer her help in this matter; if he wasn’t feeling well, she could shoulder some of his tasks or have another member of the Dregs do it. Snatching up the papers, she did her best to put them in a neat stack before striding out of Kaz's office with the intent of busting down the bathroom door to tell him he had to either get his act together or let someone else to do things for him.

            It was a relatively hot day, the sort of deceitful hot that only became uncomfortable if one stayed outside for too long, and the humid air seemed to cling to the walls of the Slat like a large, damp parasite. It made her coat and hood stick to her like a second skin, and she fanned herself with the collar of her shirt as she hauled herself up the stairs, which creaked and moaned under her weight, the sounds familiar after all these long years.

            There weren't many people out and about the Slat that day, since the mid-afternoon was the perfect time to hunt unsuspecting pigeons, but there was still a small clamor from downstairs, a slight hum of voices and distant conversations Inej could hear but not process.

            She was just about to ascend up to the floor with the bathroom when suddenly she heard something drip. Her expression contorted as she ran a hand down her face, wondering how many times they’d have to fix the pipes before they stopped leaking, and backed up a few steps to search the ground for puddles.

            There was a fleck of blood on the floor, probably from an old gunfight, and Inej flinched as she felt a drop on her shoulder. Looking up, she expected a colony of mold as water seeped through the boards, but instead she saw a dark stain had emerged on the ceiling, ugly and uneven as its dull color blended in with the swirling wood.

            Blood.

            She didn't immediately panic, blood wasn't anything out of the ordinary in the Barrel, or even in the Slat. Dregs came back from their rounds with cuts, bullet wounds, bruises, and everything in between, but there was something about this particular blood that unnerved her.

 _Someone is just washing off in the bathroom from a fight,_ she told herself, but even she wasn’t convinced.

            Nobody was home, and had there been someone actively trying to clean their wounds upstairs, she would’ve heard the wood creaking as they shifted around. There was nothing but silence coming from upstairs, silence and the _drip drip drip_ of blood.

            _Kaz._

She should’ve known it would come to this, should’ve acknowledged the warning signs earlier. He was the reason why she wasn’t hunting slavers with her crew right now, why she’d stayed in Ketterdam after the heist with Espenov.

            Even though she’d tried to deny it, tried to think it was just one of Kaz’s low moments that he always worked through, a part of her had known that something in Kaz had unhinged and fragile, trying to bend in on itself.

_It must've snapped._

            Inej’s feet carried her up the rest of the stairs before she could even think to run, and she slammed over to the bathroom door, jiggling the knob but finding it was locked from the inside. It took a few attempts and a whole lot of willpower, but eventually Inej was able to kick the door open, storming into the room as it cracked against the wall.

            Her blood turned to frost in her veins as she came to a stop, breathing hard.

            She’d found the source of the blood.

            Inej heard nothing but her heart roaring in her ears and that terrible _drip drip drip_ of blood as she ran over to Kaz, collapsing onto her knees beside him.

            His eyes were closed, his skin ashen, and he was slumped between the toilet and the wall, everything within a three-foot radius slathered in dark blood. He looked hollowed out, like a lifeless puppet with gashes on its wrists, and had she not heard the barely-there whisper of breath from between his lips, she would’ve thought he was dead.

            Panic threatened to take hold, but she forced it down as she tore up the bathroom in search of something that would stop the bleeding, eventually finding a small roll of gauze that she knew would do very little to help.

 _This is the bathroom for a fucking gang, there has to be something!_ she managed to think over the litany of, _Save him! Save him! Save him!_

            After a ripping up the medicine cabinet, she finally found what she was looking for: a needle and thread. She wasn’t a medic, but her skills as a pirate would have to be enough.

            Inej took a deep breath in a weak attempt to calm herself before kneeling down next to Kaz, threading the needle with trembling fingers and pulling one of Kaz’s arms into her lap.

            The sharp smell that clogged her senses made her want to vomit, mostly because she knew whose blood it was, and she bit down hard on her tongue as she jabbed the needle into his skin. Her mind whirling with possible outcomes that crowded together and made it difficult to concentrate.

            After what seemed like eternity, Inej had sewn the cut shut. The stitches were sloppy and there would no doubt be a scar, but they would keep him alive.

            Moving to the other arm, she fared a bit better as she forced her shaking hands under control, the stitching coming out slightly better than the others.

            Once she was sure she’d stopped the bleeding, she carried him out of the bathroom and to his bed, desperately trying to ignore how light he was in her arms. She placed him down as gently as she could, her fingers fumbling for his pulse. It was sluggish and faint, but it was still there, and her shoulders sagged with relief as she sent a silent prayer of thanks to the saints.

            Inej dragged a chair over to his bedside, her skin still humming with adrenaline, and clutched his hand in hers, a hand that would’ve been cold and dead had she waited any longer to confront her.

            “You coward,” she whispered, a solitary tear trickling down her face. “Too encumbered with your own regrets to even think about how you were leaving me behind.” Her voice broke, and she pressed her forehead against his blood-slicked knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

            The world went blurry as her eyes misted up, tears ready to burst forth like water from a dam, but that’s when Anika burst in with a piece of paper in her hand, and Inej quickly steeled herself.

            Anika’s eyes widened when she saw Kaz’s limp and bloody form on the bed, her eyes sliding to Inej as she held up the piece of paper and murmured, “He left a note. It’s addressed to you.”

            Inej didn’t think she could speak if she tried, so she only nodded in acknowledgement, taking the note from her and unfolding it to reveal the neat message inked there.

            Anika lingered at the threshold as Inej read over the note, hesitantly asking, “Is he…?”

            Inej shook her head numbly as she read over the words, feeling the self-loathing that bled into the words with each stroke of the pen. He spoke so dearly of her. And to think she’d just called him a coward.

            When she was finished, she folded up the note and put it into her pocket, planning on burning it later. No one had to know about this, about Kaz’s weeks of suffering that led up to a single moment of weakness.

            She turned to Anika, her lips pursing into a thin line as she hissed, “Never speak of this day. Not a word should come from your mouth or the mouths of any people you might’ve told, lest you wake up one day to find your tongues severed from your mouths. Understand?”

            Anika nodded vigorously, and Inej waved her away, watching on as she bustled out of the room and tromped down the steps back to the main living space, no doubt to get a drink.

            Inej turned back to Kaz, her eyes raking over his wilted and bloodied body, and couldn’t help but think back to the night they’d broken into Espenov’s mansion. He’d looked the same way when she’d found him in Espenov’s bed.

            Kaz Brekker woke an hour later.

            His eyes fluttered open and seemed confused by the ceiling above him, eventually turning his gaze to Inej and the stitches on his wrists.

            The first words out of his mouth were, “Why couldn’t you let me die?”

           

\----Ӝ----

 

            It became abundantly clear that Kaz didn’t feel like he was still meant to be a part of this world, leaving most of his work for other Dregs to handle as he let his fury and self-hatred fester inside of him like a sickness.

            Inej soon found that she had to act as his chaperone, for it didn’t take her long to realize that he was a man with a death wish who was willing to burn the whole city down in the process, his fear and shame morphing into anger and recklessness.

            Every day he would sprint full speed toward the brink of death, and every day Inej would grab him by the collar and drag him away kicking and screaming.

            “Kaz, you need to stop!” Inej begged when she found him at the empty bar, empty bottles and glasses strewn around him as he worked diligently on another fiddle of whiskey. “You’re going to poison yourself!”

            “Why do you fucking care?!” he slurred, struggling with Inej as she wrestled the bottle out of his hands. “You think I’m just a pitiful damsel in distress for you to rescue!”

            “If you stopped putting yourself in danger, maybe that wouldn’t be the case!” Inej roared back, tears springing to her eyes as Kaz’s face contorted in a way she’d never seen it do before.

            Sure, she’d seen hate in Kaz’s eyes, in the twist of his lips, but she’d never seen it so plain and raw on his face, contorting his mouth and brow until he looked more like a dragon ready to blast her with fire than a human.

            “Stop trying! You’re not doing this for me, you’re doing this for you! I don’t want to be saved!” His anger left him in a rush, replaced by sorrow, and he leaned his elbows against the bar, burying his face in his hands. “If you care as much as you say you do, you’re going to leave right now. You’re going to leave, and you’re going to shut the door on your way out.”

            “I’m more selfish than you think I am, Kaz,” Inej whispered, her lips trembling as tears slipped down Kaz’s cheeks and dribbled from his chin. “I need you.”

            Kaz wouldn’t look at her, pressing his face against the wood of the bar as he let out a hoarse sob, his fingers twisting in his hair as if he were going to rip it from his scalp. His gloves hid the scars on his wrists, but despite how they were hidden by fabric, both of them were hyper-aware that they were there.

            “Let me bring you to bed,” Inej murmured, and Kaz sniffed as he allowed her to help him off of his stool and bring him upstairs.

            She turned her back as he changed into his pajamas, and once that was done she led him to the bed and laid him down, tucking him in and kissing his forehead gently with a hushed, “Sleep tight.”

            Three days later she caught him outside the Crow Club grappling with a higher-up from the Razorgulls, not even bothering to fight back as he allowed the man to beat him like a dog. People gathered at the mouth of the alley to watch as the man tossed Kaz over his head, grinning as he crashed into a cluster of garbage cans and connected with the far wall.

            “You done yet?” the man spat as Kaz hauled himself to his feet, covered in trash and leaning heavily against the bricks.

            “I’m done when I say I’m done.” His words were slurred, his cheeks rosy and his face bloodied, and Inej could tell that he was about to collapse. “We’re just getting started.”

            The member of the Razorgulls snarled, storming over with his fists raised, and Kaz braced himself for the blows with a smile on his face before Inej was there between them, raising her knives up to keep Kaz’s opponent at bay.

            “Get out of here!” Kaz spat, trying to shove her away, but he was weak and cradling one of his arms against his chest. “This is none of your business!”

            “Actually, it is, and we’re getting out of here right now,” Inej hissed, her hand clamping onto Kaz’s shoulder to steer him away. “I apologize for whatever he did to get you worked up.”

            The member of the Razorgulls spat on the floor, his eyes glittering. “He’s going to regret this.”

            Inej said nothing for the entire walk to the Slat, her fury sizzling in her veins as she kept her eyes straight ahead, refusing to so much as look at Kaz. He was a fool. What would happen if he got killed? The Dregs would be in complete disarray, perhaps dissolve altogether, and Kaz’s legacy and reputation would dissolve in mere moments; all of his accomplishments would mean nothing if he died without honor or glory.

            “I’m sorry,” Kaz croaked as they turned the corner, the Slat coming into view. “I didn’t mean it.”

            Inej didn’t reply as she dragged him up the steps and across the threshold, ushering him upstairs to his room before anyone could ask any questions. Kaz lowered himself onto the bed as Inej slammed the door shut, relishing in her silent rage as she snatched the First Aid kit from the nightstand and started patching up his wounds.

            It was nothing like when they’d been in the bathroom together and Kaz had been tending to her. There was no romantic tension, no shared glances or sly smiles. Inej was professional and quick, her jaw clenching as she worked without even acknowledging how Kaz was trying to catch her eye.

            She dabbed at his split lip and examined his lost teeth, washing some wounds while bandaging others that she thought needed it. His eye was swelling up, so she fetched him an ice pack to place on it.

            “Inej—”

            “I’m going to set your shoulder on three. One, two—” She set his shoulder before she even reached three, ignoring the way he yelped softly and cradled his arm gingerly.

            “Inej…”

            “You should be fine,” she deadpanned as she toweled off her hands to get rid of Kaz’s blood, staining it red. “Get some rest, call me if you need help.”

            “Inej,” he practically begged, and for the first time Inej looked up at him, her lips pursed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed.

            “What is it.” The words came out as a growl.

            “I’m sorry,” he croaked, his eyes welling up as he pressed the ice pack against his face. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

            “You don’t do much of that anymore, do you?”

            “I promise I’ll be better,” Kaz insisted, his hands trembling from within the confines of their gloves. “I promise.”

            “Don’t make oaths you can’t keep,” Inej warned.

            “I’m not.” Kaz wiped at his face, hiccupping slightly. “Please. Stay with me.”

            Inej’s stony expression softened, a small smile touching her lips. “Alright. I’m not going anywhere.”

            Kaz let out a ragged sigh of relief, toeing his shoes off as he crawled up to his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders. Inej slipped into bed beside him, and although they didn’t touch, the comfort of each other’s presences reminded her of the time before Espenov’s mansion, when they’d been healing.

            It was a start.

            The next two weeks went by without incident. Kaz started managing the Dregs like he did before and Jesper and Wylan came to visit from the Van Eck mansion a couple of times, though they were very much enamored with the business and politics that came along with inheriting Jan’s fortune.

            Kaz and Inej composed a letter to Nina in hopes that it would reach her in Ravka sometime within the next month or so, and it was easy for Inej to pretend that everything was fine.

            Kaz laughed over drinks with Jesper and diligently worked on building up the Dregs from their slump, and it seemed to Inej that this whole thing had blown over.

            He was making new friends within the Dregs, spending more time downstairs mingling with them instead of holed up in his office, and Inej noticed him taking a particular interest in one of the newbies, a young, strapping gentleman named Andreas who’d come from a small town in Ravka.

            The two had a lot in common, apparently, and talked about living life on a farm and enthusing about card games and tricks, sometimes teaching each other sleights of hand, and the smile on Kaz’s face when he learned a new way to deceive people’s eyes made the weight in Inej’s heart lift.

            Yet, she still caught him crying out in his sleep and waking from nightmares every night, caught him spooking at little things that wouldn’t have bothered him before, especially when strangers accidentally touched or brushed against him. Even with a coat and gloves on, Kaz was sensitive to this, and Inej tried her best to make sure that it didn’t bother him too much.

            Clearly, Espenov still haunted him just as much as he did before, only this time Kaz was doing a better job of hiding it.

            A few times she caught him sneaking out to visit the grave of Finn, the Dreg he’d murdered all those weeks ago, and standing over the headstone with hunched shoulders and a dark expression, though when he returned to the Slat he would act like nothing ever happened.

            Despite it not being perfect, it was better, so, naturally, it couldn’t last.

            A couple of days later, she realized that Kaz was starting to grow even more nervous and skittish than normal. He would mutter things to himself under his breath when he thought no one was listening in and would pace like an animal in his room, almost as if he was torn and trying to convince himself to do something.

            Inej was immediately on high alert, keeping a closer eye on him and bracing for the worst, but Kaz didn’t seem to be intending to make another attempt to end his life.

            “Inej?” Kaz asked one night as sized himself up in the mirror. His eyes seemed frightened, though Inej couldn’t decipher why. “What are we?”

            “I…I don’t know.”

            “Oh.” Kaz looked down at his shoes, his expression turning grim. “Me neither.”

            “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

            “Well…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

            “Are you sure?” Inej asked, suddenly tense. “Is everything okay?”

            “Yes, everything’s great,” Kaz replied, and he sounded honest enough to Inej, though she could still pick up on a spark of fear and anxiety in his eyes. Why was he so scared? “I’m going down to the bar for tonight. Andreas is showing me some new coin tricks.”

            “All right. Have fun.”

            He offered her a smile, though there was a tightness in his lips that made Inej’s blood run cold, and kissed her forehead before slipping out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

            As soon as she was sure he was down at the bar, Inej slipped from the window like she’d done hundreds of times before, navigating along the side of the Slat as she maneuvered across windowsills and clung to the bricks like the spider everyone thought her to be.

            It took her about five minutes to reach the lowest floor, and she flipped her hood up as she peered through the window, watching the Dregs chat, drink, and eat with one another in the main living space.

            Soft music drifted from inside, the tune of a violin and the tinkle of piano keys, and everyone seemed to be having a great time despite how late in the night it was. Kaz and Andreas were drinking at the bar, and Inej watched as a coin slipped to and from existence right before her very eyes.

            Andreas’ lips moved wordlessly as he held up the coin and pointed to places on his sleeve, and Inej could almost hear his Ravkan accent explaining how to perform the trick. Kaz was nodding along enthusiastically, but he seemed distracted, his fingers drumming restlessly and his eyes darting around the room as if he were afraid the walls would sneak up on him.

            They had a few more drinks, to the point where neither of them would be considered sober, and Kaz demonstrated some of his own tricks, producing a deck of cards from his coat and showing him one where he would find Andreas’ card despite shuffling the deck and closing his eyes.

            Andreas’ lips moved again, and Inej could make out the words: _“So I assume you’re not going to show me how to do this trick?”_

Kaz was facing away from the window, so Inej couldn’t decipher his reply, but Andreas threw his head back with laughter and clapped Kaz on the shoulder.

            All of a sudden, the two locked eyes, Andreas’ hand lingering on Kaz’s shoulder, his fingers smoothing over the fabric of his coat.

            Inej’s heart dropped as Andreas asked, _“Do you want to get out of here?”_

            _Say no! Say no!_

Kaz nodded, and Inej went cold all over as he allowed Andreas to lead him upstairs. Quickly, she leapt up onto the second floor, peering into windows until she found Andreas’ room.

            Not long after, Andreas and Kaz filtered inside, locking the door behind them, and Inej thought she would be sick to her stomach.

            _Why are you jealous?_ a voice inside of her asked. _He isn’t yours, he doesn’t belong to you. You never made the move to officially make him yours; he’s allowed to do whatever he wants._

She thought back to earlier, when Kaz had asked her what they were. He’d been trying to ask her whether he could do things like this, and she had no doubt that this wouldn’t be happening if she’d given him a better answer. She should’ve said something, anything that would’ve shown him that they had something between them that was worth dedicating to.

            Still, she thought that there was something special between them. He’d even kissed her on the forehead before he went out!

            Either what they had was all in Inej’s head, or something was wrong. Despite everything, Inej desperately hoped it was the latter.

            Andreas slid the coat off of Kaz’s shoulders and folded it over the chair, smiling softly as he whispered in his ear, and Inej saw what Andreas didn’t, saw the sparkle of fear in Kaz’s eyes and the terrified line of his mouth.

            Was he being forced? Then again, he’d allowed Andreas to bring him here and was currently unbuttoning his shirt, so what could possibly be the matter?

            The two tumbled onto the bed, and Andreas propped himself up against the headboard, pulling Kaz into his lap and running his hands under Kaz’s shirt before hiking it up to bare his porcelain skin to the night air.

            Though Kaz’s eyes were frightened, his mouth laughed, and he leaned down to bring their lips back together, and Inej had to turn away when Andreas hooked his fingers into Kaz’s belt loops and started to pull his slacks down.

            It was time to go. Let Kaz enjoy his night with Andreas. Anything to help him feel better.

            Still, Inej’s eyes stung as she clambered back up to the fourth floor, where Kaz’s room was…where _their_ room was.

            _How could he? How could he?!_

She clenched her teeth, trying to blink the tears out of her eyes as she slipped into Kaz’s room and ran her hands through her hair. She had no idea what she would do, had no idea where to even start figuring out what she would do.

            Though she knew her mind was imagining things, she could almost hear them two floors below, could almost hear the headboard against the wall and the soft noises of appreciation whispered from both of their lips.

            Inej lowered herself into Kaz’s bed and pretended to read a book, her eyes skimming the words without really absorbing them as she tried to occupy herself from all of the thoughts buzzing around in her head. Kaz was a cheater. But was he really a cheater when there wasn’t really an established relationship between them in the first place? Perhaps he didn’t know?

            Kaz returned about twenty minutes later, and Inej didn’t fail to notice how his limp seemed more pronounced and how his tie was on backwards. She caught a glimpse of dark hickeys peeking out from beneath his shirt collar.

            “You okay?” Inej asked. She could barely force the words out.

            Kaz hesitated before shaking his head numbly. He didn’t even look at her as he slipped out of the room and hustled toward the bathroom.

            Inej didn’t feel an ounce of guilt as she followed.

            Leaning into the door, she could pick out Kaz’s harsh breathing. He sounded like he was about to break down.

            “I thought…” He trailed off, his voice a mere whisper. “I thought that if I did this you would leave me alone, but you’re still here.”

            Espenov.

            And all of a sudden it dawned on Inej. Andreas was Ravkan. He had the accent, the stature, and even the looks of Espenov to some degree.

            “I thought that…that maybe if I gave myself up to someone who looked and talked like you, you would finally be satisfied…” His voice cracked, and he exhaled raggedly. “But it was for nothing. You’re never going to leave, are you? You’re never going to get out of my head.”

            Inej knew there was more to listen in on, but she still returned to the room.

            She’d heard enough.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

 

            "Well?"

            The newborn dawn bathed the room in violent golds and oranges, as if the wood was about to spark and catch fire. If Inej searched really hard, she could see the sun peeking out from over the crooked rooftops.

            They were on the top floor, and Kaz had one leg out the window.

            His shoulders were hunched, his body tense as he gripped the window frame, and he refused to look at her, as if her being here was more shameful than the act of self-destruction he was about to commit.

            "Well, what are you waiting for?” Kaz prompted, drying tear tracks sparkling on his cheeks. “Go on. Stop me. Stop me like you always do."

            Inej couldn't tell if that was a taunt or a plea, and she bent her head before forcing out a soft, "No."

            "No?" His gaze finally met hers, his eyes burning like the rising sun, filled with anguish and shame. The hickeys stood out starkly against his neck like pox from the Queen Lady’s Plague. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”

            “I'm not going to try to stop you,” Inej murmured, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she forced herself to stay put at the top of the stairs. The two were only a few feet, yards, miles, _eons_ apart. “You made it clear the first time you tried that you didn’t want to be in this world anymore, but my own selfishness made me tie you down. I’m beyond that now. Jump if you wish. I’ll let you go if you want me to."

            Inej was lying through her teeth.

            She wasn’t beyond her selfishness, wasn’t beyond wanting to stop him, to pull him back and convince him that a broken world was the best place for him to stay.

            But even she could not be so cruel, especially not to the one person in Ketterdam she cared for more than she cared for anyone else.

            The Dregs wouldn’t take the suicide of their leader very kindly. They would see him as weak, would strip him of all his honors despite not knowing of his suffering, and would toss his body into the canal instead of giving him a proper burial with the others.

            If he jumped now he'd fall from their favor.

            And the window.

            “I’ll cover for you,” Inej murmured, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I’ll tell the Dregs that I pushed you from the window.”

            “No, don’t do that.” Kaz’s voice was harsh and broken. “They’ll kill you.”

            “They can try.”

            “Where will you go?”

            “Wherever my boat takes me, I suppose. Perhaps settle down in Ravka with my family.”

            Kaz turned his gaze to the horizon, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “You’ll never be able to return to Ketterdam.”

            “Why would I want to return to Ketterdam?” Inej hissed, pursing her lips together so he wouldn’t see the way her lower lip trembled. “Without you, there is nothing here for me. Aside from your grave, but I wouldn’t risk my life to visit.”

            “You wouldn’t?”

            Inej didn’t reply, looking away. They both knew that that wasn’t the case.

            The silence weighed almost as heavily in the air as the humidity, suffocating the both of them like a blanket. It was the only spectator to this private scene, sitting there, simply and regally, judging them.

            She wanted to let Kaz know how much she adored him, how much she wanted to burn the world down with him, how much she wanted to die by his side, but to say anything would be to keep clutching to the invisible tether she'd created.

            “I love you, Kaz.” There was a tremor in her voice despite her desperate attempts to fight it off. “If you jump now, you’re taking half of my heart with you. Please don’t leave me. I was alone for so long in the menagerie. I don’t want to be alone again.”

            Kaz wouldn’t look at her, and she bit down on her tongue as acceptance settled heavily on her shoulders. It was time to let go.

            She turned to leave. She couldn’t bear seeing him leap from the window and tumble to the ground like a bird shot out of the sky, couldn’t bear to listen to the shuddering thump of his body connecting with the earth.

            A noise made her look back. It was almost a chuckle, an interruption to the pristine stillness, and Inej turned her head to find that Kaz had put both his legs out the window.

            He wasn't making any motion to move, simply sitting on the sill and allowing his legs to dangle.

            She stayed perfectly still, fearing that a single move toward him would make the window give way and send him spiraling to the ground, so there they sat for what felt like hours, taking each other's silence, almost daring each other to make the first move.

            "I'm sorry."

            "For what?" Inej whispered, her voice struggling to regain composure.

            "For everything. I know I'm weak. You keep trying to keep me on my feet but, Espenov broke my good leg." He chuckled bitterly. "I know I should try to keep going but…"

            "But?" Inej asked, afraid if her voice got any louder he'd fall.

            “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

            “You don’t have to be.” She dared to take a step forward, the floorboard groaning under her weight. “I’ll lend you my strength. I’ve been doing it for a while now.”

            Kaz smiled, a soft, subtle thing. “Thank you.”

            “We’ll get through this together,” Inej assured, letting out her breath in a sigh as she made her way over to the window. “I’ll help you in any way I can.”

            Kaz scooted over to make room and Inej sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder and twining her fingers with his as they watched the sun rise above the city.

It was a lot like the days they’d spent on the rooftop, watching the metropolis wake from its slumber as the crows swarmed around them and begged for scraps.

            “Please promise you won’t try to do this again,” Inej whispered, wiping her tears on his jacket as they started to fall in earnest. “Promise me.”

            Kaz’s smile was gentle, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. “I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes. I want to stay with you until I grow old. I love you, Inej.”

            “I love you, too.”

           

 

**END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally did it! It took a while, but Gigi and I got through it! 
> 
> Would you guys be interested in an alternate ending chapter? What would've happened if Kaz had stayed with Espenov? Comment if you'd want that!


	5. ALTERNATE ENDING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would've happened if Espenov had won?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Additional Warnings/Tags for the Alternate Ending:** Abuse (Verbal, Physical, Sexual), Rape, Stockholm Syndrome, Toxic Relationships
> 
> **NOTE** The relationship between Kaz and Espenov is in no way a healthy one. Don't think that this is normal or assume that Gigi or I support these kinds of relationships. 
> 
> **Domestic Violence Hotline (US):** 1−800−799−7233  
>  **Sexual Assault Hotline (US):** 1-800-656-4673

ALTERNATE ENDING

**(Set after Chapter One)**

\----Ӝ----

 

"You'll enjoy it, I promise," Markus assured, kissing away a couple of the tears before yanking the underwear down, a soft sigh of appreciation escaping his lips at the same time as Kaz's ragged sob.

Kaz's eyes rolled back into his head as Espenov's hands clamped over his hips, and he was about to succumb to darkness when Espenov backhanded him across the face, everything returning to sharp focus.

"You're going to stay with me. Do you understand?" Espenov growled, and when Kaz didn't reply he slapped him again. " _Do you understand?!_ You're going to be here for every second of it!"

Kaz nodded vigorously, tears streaming down his throbbing cheek.

Espenov smiled, an easygoing thing that was so unlike the hard lines of anger etched into his face not moments before. "Good."

Kaz cried through the whole thing.

He covered his face with his hands to shield himself from Espenov's gaze and turned his face away when Espenov tried to kiss him, and the man was merciful enough to let him hide, though he did have to pin Kaz's wrists once the teen mustered up enough strength to struggle.

"Ow," Kaz sobbed, his sides heaving and his thighs spasming where they flanked Espenov's hips, "Ow…"

"Relax," Espenov murmured gently, "You're fighting me. Stop it. You're only hurting yourself."

Kaz wailed helplessly, throwing his head back into the pillows as humiliation made his face burn, his fingers clutching the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white. "Stop! Stop it, please! _Please!_ "

Despite his begging, it was like trying to reason with a monster.

Espenov tried to get him into it, tried jerking him off, but Kaz was having none of it, the agony outweighing the pleasures of Espenov's hand. Eventually, he sagged into the mattress and waited patiently for it to be over, staring up at the ceiling as the headboard cracked against the wall.

His eyes slid shut as when Espenov finished and laid down on top of him, the man propping himself up on his elbows and staring at Kaz with something akin to tenderness in his eyes.

"You were amazing," he sighed, kissing Kaz and knowing fully well that the teen was too exhausted to resist. "I'm definitely keeping you."

"No," Kaz whispered, shaking his head as more tears fell. "No. Shoot me. Dump my body into the canal like you did with all the others."

Espenov only chuckled, shaking his head. "You're beautiful. And perfect. There's no way in hell that I will ever give you up, _mio pichske uccesco._ "

"Oh," was all that Kaz replied with.

He was numb.

Kaz's gaze returned to the ceiling as Espenov busied himself getting ready for bed. The commotion outside had died down, and Kaz well and truly knew that they'd failed. No one was coming to save him.

He would've dissolved into tears had he had any more left to cry.

Espenov carefully helped Kaz beneath the sheets before shackling one of his ankles to the bedpost, making well sure that the key and any other lock picking items were placed on the other side of the room. After all of that was said and done, Espenov slid into bed beside Kaz, spooning him.

"I'll fetch a Healer for you tomorrow," Espenov whispered into his ear, unsurprised when Kaz didn't respond. "Sleep tight."

Kaz didn't.

-Ӝ-

Kaz awoke to Espenov tracing the planes of his face with his thumb, and as recollections of last night came crashing down onto him, he jerked away from the touch, hissing as his broken leg shifted beneath the sheets.

Espenov propped himself up on one hand, grinning at him like a wolf grins at a lost sheep, and Kaz could do nothing but stare at him wide-eyed, the agony in his broken leg and the cuff around the other keeping him from scrambling away.

"What's the matter, _mio_ _pichske uccesco?_ " Espenov inquired, his smile fading, and Kaz struggled to blink back tears. “Do you need some water? Are you hungry?”

This man felt no guilt for what he'd done. It wasn't even a blip on his moral compass.

His lower lip trembled, and he buried his face into his hands to hide from Espenov's remorseless gaze, just like how he'd done during the actual act.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it?" Espenov huffed, his forehead creasing when he reached out and Kaz recoiled from the touch. "Well, there's a bit of blood, but that's just because it was your first time. We can get the sheets changed once the Healer comes."

Kaz sobbed, turning away. He didn't want this to be real. Maybe if he didn't look at Espenov this whole place would disappear and he'd be back in the Slat with Inej by his bedside.

"Hey, enough of that. I was gentle."

"It doesn't fucking matter that you were gentle!" Kaz screamed, and Espenov's brows shot up to his forehead. " _It doesn't fucking matter!_ "

"Like hell it doesn't matter," Espenov growled, the menacing sound spurring Kaz's heart up into his throat. "I wanted to fuck you into the mattress until you couldn't walk, but no; I took it easy on you because I knew you were a nervous virgin and I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Didn't want me to be uncomfortable?" Kaz shrilled, tears streaming down his face. "Didn't want me to be uncomfortable?! You _raped_ me!"

There. Now that he'd said it, he couldn't deny it, couldn't pretend that it hadn't happened or that it wasn't true.

Espenov said nothing, but his expression had gone terribly blank, and Kaz's heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it in his temples.

After a few moments of silence and baited breath, Espenov snarled, "We will _not_ use that word in this house."

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Kaz's face contorted as he shoved at Espenov, trying to get him as far away as possible. "You should've just killed me! _You should've just killed me!_ "

Espenov left to get the Healer after that, muttering under his breath, and the teen could do nothing but lie in the bed and mourn all he'd lost.

Espenov had brutally ripped something from him that he'd never get back, and the way his lower half felt all out of sorts didn't fail to remind him every time he moved. He would never see his friends again, would spend the rest of his days wasting away in this small space with his tormenter as his only company.

He would never see Inej again.

The thought of that made another sob bubble up in his throat, and he screamed his frustrations to the empty bedroom, gripping his hair so tightly he was afraid he'd tear his own scalp off.

The sheets were changed by a petite maid who gave Kaz a pitying glance but refused to speak to him, despite him begging for her to help him escape. He offered her kruge, protection, power, and fame, but she only shrugged and bustled out of the room, leaving Kaz to bury his face into his hands and weep.

The Healer came and went, not offering any comment on the state Kaz was in as he healed both of his legs, mending the broken bone in one of them and fixing the lameness in the other upon Espenov's request. A Grisha Materialki was even brought in, and he installed bars on the windows and smoothed out all of the hard edges of the room, making well sure that Kaz couldn't hurt himself or Espenov.

The rest of the day was spent lying in bed, since he was refused the luxury of having the fetter around is ankle taken off, and shrinking away from Espenov whenever he came near. The man had apparently forsaken going to work in order to spend time with his new plaything, and Kaz hated every second he spent in the man's presence, ignoring him when he tried to make small talk or sexual advances.

He didn't take what he wanted by force this time, but as the frustration behind the man's eyes grew with every sharp denial he received, Kaz was aware of how close the man was coming to doing so. It was going to happen inevitably, he knew, but Kaz wanted to stall it for as long as possible, dread settling low in his gut and he wondered, with mounting anxiety, when Espenov would be between his legs once again.

Every single day after that made Kaz yearn for death.

Every evening he would fall asleep next to Espenov and plead for Ghezen to take him, beg for his soul to be stolen away in the night, and every morning he woke up more convinced that the god either didn't exist or had a sick sense of humor.

Perhaps this was his punishment for all of his wrongdoings, and he wished he'd heeded Inej's warnings that there would be consequences for his actions.

"Sit still!" Espenov ordered between clenched teeth on the morning of the third day as Kaz struggled and screamed, kicking, punching, and scratching at any exposed skin he could get to. "You fucking whore−"

He pinned Kaz's wrists on either side of his head, trying in vain to control him, and Kaz leaned up and sunk his teeth into Espenov's shoulder, biting down as hard as he could until Espenov nailed him right in the face and sent him reeling.

"Bitch!" Espenov bellowed, clamping a hand over the ring of teeth-marks on his flesh and watching as the blood trickled through his fingers.

Kaz's head was spinning, but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he grinned, his teeth slathered with in crimson. Espenov snarled and stormed out of the room, leaving Kaz to bask in his triumph as he relished in the metallic tang of Espenov's blood in his mouth.

His satisfaction, however, was short-lived, and a few hours later brought in a very familiar face, one that Kaz had never wanted to see again.

Tante Heleen had greeted him with a sickly sweet smile and murder in her eyes, and Kaz spent the next few days on his knees learning how to suck cock; his tormenters had agreed that the trauma of actual penetration would drive Kaz insane before the week was over, so they'd have to ease him into it.

If "easing him into it" included forcing Kaz to take more than he could handle and doing nothing as he gagged and choked and sobbed.

Kaz tried to resist at first, hoping that Espenov would decide he was more trouble than he was worth and shoot him. The first time he gave Espenov a blowjob, he dug his teeth in with the intent of biting the whole damn thing off and earned himself a good fifty lashes with Espenov's belt, and he took every opportunity to try to escape, once getting as far as the front door before the guards tackled him and dragged him back to the room.

He bit and scratched and kicked and punched and spouted a million curses until he was hoarse and red in the face, refusing to cooperate until Tante Heleen hog tied him and beat him with a club. But no matter how many times he rebelled, it always ended with him gritting his teeth against the agony of the club striking him so hard his bones rattled.

When he suffered from two broken ribs at the hands of Tante Heleen and was still expected to perform well, he decided that outright defiance was too painful to bear.

Kaz tried subtle things instead, hoping that they'd somehow turn the tide. He got away with a solid five days without eating before Tante Heleen found out and shoved a funnel down his throat, and he had to hang from the ceiling by his wrists for a night when she realized he was using the bathroom as an excuse to hide away. She beat him and whipped him and wrung every single drop of hope out of his body like he was a wet rag.

By the time she went home every day, Kaz was too worn down to offer up much of a fight and dropped to his knees to let Espenov fuck his mouth so he could just go to sleep.

After he'd mastered that particular skill, Tante Heleen moved on to teaching him obedience, which wasn't as bad; compliance was heartless. Thoughtless. It wasn't like before, when he had to actually concentrate on what Heleen was teaching him.

He was taught manners, taught which behaviors pleased Espenov and which things made him cross, and taught to bear punishments like sleeping on the floor and being physically abused to the point of near-death, though he was used to that last part by then.

"This room is your world," Heleen told Kaz as he knelt on the ground in front of her, his shoulders sagging and his whole body aching from the club. "This is where you will live out the rest of your life. Forget about the outside world and the people in it, you're not a part of that anymore; you belong here."

Once they got to the actual fucking, Kaz was surprised that he had enough life left in him to cry when it happened.

It didn't matter if he was on his back, on his stomach, or sitting on Espenov's lap, he still cried every time.

It could be the gentlest sex Espenov could manage and Kaz would still sob and scream for his friends and for Inej and Jordie, water surging up behind his eyelids with every movement Espenov made inside of his body.

Every night, he would lie awake and sob until Espenov beat him and forced him to sleep on the floor, and even then he would still weep in earnest until a nightmare-filled slumber dragged him down.

He'd suffer through hours upon hours of punishment because of it, Tante Heleen "giving him something to really cry about" as she clubbed and whipped him until he was black and blue all over and his back was shredded to ribbons. He'd lie on the floor afterwards and beg for death, beg himself to please, _please_ not cry next time, though his body would never listen.

When beatings and whippings had no effect on Kaz's performance, Heleen suggested he get punished during sex.

"Perhaps then he'll get the idea that the crying and punishment are correlated," she growled, as if he were doing it on purpose.

"No…no…please don't," Kaz pleaded once Heleen had left, crumbling to his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. "Mercy. Please, mercy."

"If I show you mercy, you won't learn," Espenov tutted, and Kaz was so desperate that he gave Espenov the best blowjob he could manage in hopes of changing his mind.

It was in vain, though, because the next time Kaz cried during sex Espenov fucked him raw.

There was no prep, not even the slightest bit of slick or foreplay, and it had taken Espenov a few tries to force himself into Kaz's body as the teen writhed in pain.

Espenov ground Kaz's face into the pillow to smother his shrieking, and his screams dissolved into sobs as he felt the blood dribbling down his thighs. It felt like Espenov was ripping him in half, like knives were tearing Kaz up from the inside.

"Stop it! _Stop it!_ I can’t _breathe—_ " he begged, reaching a trembling hand back to claw at Espenov's flank in a desperate attempt to get him to obey. "Please stop!"

He'd never felt this much pain for this long, never felt so ashamed of himself while it was happening. Bile rose up in his throat, and he was only just able to wrench his head up before he vomited over the side of the bed, the agony making him delirious.

By the time Espenov was finished, Kaz was a mess of tears and snot, and he hugged himself as if that would somehow make the pain go away.

He felt absolutely disgusting.

He used to be the Bastard of the Barrel, the most feared gang leader in Ketterdam, but now he was just a hole for a rich mercher to fuck.

"I'm sorry," Espenov muttered, eying the door as if Tante Heleen would hear him from outside the room. "I'm so sorry."

He reached out as if to comfort, but Kaz recoiled with a tortured cry, as if Espenov's touch had burned him.

"Get away from me! _Get the fuck away from me!_ " He shoved at Espenov, who listened to him for once and withdrew.

As soon as he was dressed, he let Tante Heleen back in, who took one look at the blood-soaked sheets and the crying teen that was slumped in the middle of them and grinned at Espenov, patting his shoulder.

"You did well, Markus," Heleen praised, though Espenov wouldn't take his eyes off of Kaz, who was too busy choking on his own sobs to pay attention to them.

"He needs a Healer. He's bleeding pretty badly."

"He deserves it," Heleen growled. At Espenov's expression, she snorted, "Perhaps we should've had one of your guards do this. Anything happen during it that I should know about?"

"Well, he did throw up a little, but that's because−"

"He _what?!_ " Heleen whirled on Kaz, who wept in earnest. "Where?! _Where?!_ "

"On the other side of the bed," Espenov murmured, and Heleen stormed over to the other side and gasped when she saw the mess there.

"You disgusting creature!" She punctuated each word with a slap, and Kaz held up trembling arms to try and shield himself from the blows.

"Heleen, don't−"

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Markus!" she shrilled, taking Kaz by the hair and dragging him off of the bed. "You wanted him obedient! I'll make him obedient!"

Kaz's knees buckled and he had to brace his hands against the floor to keep himself upright.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Kaz wailed, and Heleen kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him sprawling.

"Sorry ain't good enough, sweetheart!" she turned to Espenov and held out her hand. "The club, Markus."

He hesitated.

" _I said_ _the club_."

"No, no, no, no, no." Kaz was hysterical, his face blotchy and red and his cheeks wet with tears. His thighs were coated with blood. "Please, I won't cry next time, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Espenov looked away as he handed Heleen the club, and Kaz thought he was going to vomit again as she raised it up into the air. As blows started raining down, he couldn't help but try to scramble away, even though he knew that would only cause more pain.

"Stop! Stop!" his words dissolved into screams as Heleen planted her foot on his neck to keep him put.

He struggled against her for the first few minutes or so, but as time progressed, something inside of him snapped. He went limp, closing his eyes and weeping silently as he was beaten.

He couldn't fight any longer. He was tired of fighting.

"He did well," Heleen murmured when it was over, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I think the lesson will stick this time."

Kaz hauled himself into an upright position, mottled bruises blooming over his skin like sickly flowers, and turned to Espenov. He wanted to get up, wanted to walk, but he was too weak, too battered and broken, so he opted to drag himself over to him where Espenov sat on the bed.

He looked up at him and laid his head on the man's leg, his eyes slipping shut.

 _Mercy,_ he begged silently. _Mercy. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy._

"He's asking for forgiveness in the only way he can right now," Heleen growled, "But that's not what this is about. This isn't 'make a mistake, get punished, be forgiven.' This is 'make a mistake, get punished, _change your behavior_ , be forgiven.' Markus, you will not be satisfied until he changes his behavior. I forbid you from forgiving him."

Kaz could feel Espenov's eyes on him.

_Mercy._

"Kaz, you're sleeping on the ground tonight."

Mercy, Kaz realized, was only for those who had the luxury of receiving it. He should've learned long ago that there was no such thing as luxury in Ketterdam.

He cried himself to sleep and woke up a changed person. He didn't speak. He didn't fight. He did exactly what was asked of him, when it was asked of him.

The next time he was under Espenov, he didn't weep, even though it hurt so fucking much. He just clutched the man's shoulders and stared up at the ceiling like he'd done on that first terrible night, pretending he was somewhere else.

_Slip away._

"You were so good," Espenov whispered in the evening, after Heleen had gone home applauding Kaz's performance, "You didn't cry that time. Did you like it?"

Kaz didn't respond, staring off into nothing. He felt hollow and lifeless, like a puppet whose strings were cut.

"C'mon, sweetie, you haven't said a word all day."

Still no response.

"How about you nod or shake your head?"

Kaz raised his head to look at him for the first time, and Espenov smiled. "Tell me, and be honest. Did you like it?"

Kaz eyed him wearily for a few moments, weighing his options, before slowly shaking his head. He slept on the floor once again that night, but he was too exhausted to care.

_Slip away. Slip away._

Kaz's newfound compliance did nothing to make things easier like Heleen had promised. Compliance didn't give him freedom. Compliance didn't make Espenov any kinder or any gentler. In fact, it did quite the opposite.

The first week since Kaz's withdrawal from the world, Espenov unleashed an unholy tide of lust upon him, ravishing Kaz every second he could spare now that he knew his little toy didn't cry or fight back. He prepped him sparingly and more than once forgot prep altogether, taking what he wanted as roughly as he wanted because he knew that Kaz would bear it all in silence.

Kaz's misery was unlike any misery he'd ever felt as he was beaten and strangled and fucked bloody. He could hardly walk or go to the bathroom, could barely even stand. He was nothing now, nothing but an agonized soul trapped inside of a warm and used body.

His only reprieve was Saturday, when Tante Heleen didn't come during the day and Espenov still had to work. But even then he still suffered.

The guard was inside of the room. Why was he inside of the room?

"Hey, bitch," he purred, setting his gun down and popping the buttons on his uniform. "Get up."

Kaz obeyed. He didn't even think he could resist if he tried.

"What, you don't talk?"

Kaz's gaze remained straight ahead, but his thoughts were moving a million miles an hour. Why was the guard in here? He wasn't supposed to be in here!

"Wow, Espenov really fucking broke you, didn't he?" The guard waved a hand in front of Kaz's face. He didn't even blink. "Good Ghezen, you're a fucking husk."

Kaz said nothing. He just stared ahead and awaited orders.

"Get on your back on the bed."

Kaz did.

"Open your legs."

Kaz felt fingers prodding at him. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn't like he was going to say so.

"Damn, you're still loose from when Espenov used you this morning." He leaned in, his breath fanning over Kaz's face. "Remember, this is our little secret. Say nothing of this day."

The guard was much more careful than Espenov, mostly to make sure he didn't leave a trace, and Kaz didn't make a sound, his eyes pinned to the ceiling and his arms lip at his sides.

He slipped into a sort of stupor, and he didn't even realize when the guard had finished and left. He just stayed where he was, staring up at the ceiling.

To Kaz's surprise, following that first terrible week, Espenov didn't grow furious as Kaz remained silent. Instead, the man grew worried.

Kaz thought Espenov had a heart attack when he came home to find Kaz sitting in the corner, his back to Espenov as Tante Heleen lounged on the bed and read. Well, he couldn't see her reading, but that's what she'd been doing the last time he'd dared to glance over his shoulder.

"What's this?!" Espenov bellowed, and Kaz mentally wilted at the tone of his voice. An unhappy Espenov meant an Espenov that was more likely to take his anger out on Kaz.

"I told him this morning that he couldn't move from that spot until he either spoke to me or you came home and released him," Heleen replied casually, and the very sound of her voice made Kaz nauseous. "As you can see, he's a stubborn little bastard."

"He pissed himself!"

"Well, it wasn't like I was going to let him take a bathroom break."

"This is…get out, Heleen. Get out."

"As you wish." She strolled over and ruffled Kaz's hair.

Kaz wanted to flinch. He wanted to scream at her not to touch him, wanted to tell her to stay away from him, but he didn't.

"See you tomorrow, honey," she crooned. "I expect you to be extra talkative by the time I come back."

"Get. Out," Espenov growled, and Kaz didn't watch her leave, keeping his gaze pinned to the wall.

He felt revolting and was in serious need of a shower, but he had to kneel here. He'd been ordered to do so until Espenov told him he could stand. He couldn't feel his feet or legs, and there was a hollow pit where his stomach used to be.

"Kaz, Birdie, please come here."

Kaz finally mustered up the courage to look over his shoulder, and he found Espenov standing a few feet away. Wearily, he dragged himself over and settled back on his haunches, his eyes pinned on the ground.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

Kaz didn't reply.

"Hold up the number of fingers for the hours you sat there."

After much deliberation, Kaz held up nine fingers. Nine hours. Nine hours spent kneeling in that wretched corner.

Espenov ran a hand down his face. "Did you eat? Did Heleen let you eat? Answer."

Kaz shook his head.

"Come with me."

Espenov took Kaz's hands and helped him rise onto wobbly feet. He felt like a newborn colt as he was led into the shower, every step agony, and was surprised when Espenov didn't follow.

"Clean yourself up. I'll get us dinner."

He didn't ask for sex that night, even when they were spooned in bed, with Espenov down to his boxers and Kaz still very much nude.

"Heleen shouldn't've done that to you," Espenov murmured, his fingers skating over Kaz's abdomen. "It's not a fit punishment just for not talking."

Kaz could only agree, and he stared into the dark as Espenov rubbed gentle circles on his hips. He didn't want to be touched. He just wanted to be left alone in a small hole so he could wither away into nothing.

"You must feel awful. Spending all day with that witch as your only company."

Kaz thought he had a problem that was much bigger than Tante Heleen, a problem was currently spooned behind him, and he would've said so had he been his old self.

"Do you ever do anything just for fun? Does she give you any time to, you know, read or something?"

Kaz remained silent.

"I guess not. I might have to have a talk with Heleen, then."

He never did get around to doing that, and since the problem with Kaz's crying was now solved, Heleen moved onto the next lesson, which was reciprocation.

The unique part about this lesson was the fact that Heleen was teaching it in secret, telling Espenov that they were actually working on more in-depth obedience training, since the man swore up and down that he wanted Kaz to be true to his emotions during their time together.

If "true to his emotions" meant moaning when he enjoyed it and keeping his fucking trap shut when he didn't.

"We all know you'd rather keep quiet, right sweetie?" Tante Heleen asked, her words sickly sweet, and Kaz kept his head bowed. "That's fine. I can help you with that."

Kaz was taught how to fake it. Taught how to wear a smile like a mask and to moan and sigh at all the right times. He was taught how to act flirty and how to initiate sex and how to make it seem like he was enjoying every second of it. He also was taught how to get himself off, taught how to make himself come even though he felt awful so that Espenov could believe that he was truly having a good time.

These lessons took a lot longer to instill than the others, though; Heleen had to coax Kaz out of his withdrawal inside of himself, since Kaz hardly ever made a noise unless it was a wince or a cry of pain.

She gave him sweets when he did what she wanted and when he started being more alert, less like a doll that only followed orders and more like an actual living being.

The kindness was so foreign that Kaz's soul crawled out of its shell, giving him power back over his body rather than just watching it be tormented. He could nod and shake his head to questions without being ordered to answer.

"Just remember, your happiness doesn't matter anymore," Heleen told him as she massaged his shoulders, watching as he nibbled on a cookie, which was a delicacy in Kaz's book now; Espenov hardly fed Kaz anything fattening out of fear he would start putting on weight. "Your happiness is now his happiness. Your pleasure should come from giving him pleasure. You are his. Your job is to satisfy him."

The time with Heleen was the reason why the next time Espenov asked, "Did you like it?" Kaz hesitated before nodding.

The only good thing that came out of it was that the next day Espenov relieved Tante Heleen from duty, and although it deprived him of his sweets, he was still glad to see one of his torturers gone.

Months dragged on, and although he didn't show it, Kaz was weary. He wanted it to end.

It was the same awful, monotonous day on repeat. They'd wake up, have sex, shower, have breakfast, and then Espenov was off to work. From nine in the morning to nine at night Kaz was stuck in the terrible bedroom with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, thoughts that only served to drag him down deeper into his downward spiral. Then Espenov would come home, they'd have sex and eat dinner (sometimes simultaneously), and then they'd fall asleep to start the cycle again.

Kaz would linger by the windows, peering through the bars and scanning the acres of vibrant green fields that spread before him beyond the glass, his eyes tracking the faint outlines of Espenov's horses prancing around in their paddocks. He'd think about his friends and his family and mourn for them, but most of all he'd think about Inej.

He often dreamed that she'd sneak into the house in the middle of the night, take his hand in hers and whisk him away from this terrible place, but she never came. He didn't expect her to, but dreams were the only things that he had left; his body and his mind weren't his own anymore. They belonged to Espenov now, but Espenov couldn't control his dreams; they were the one thing that his wretched hands could not touch.

But his dreams weren't enough to keep him going, , especially since those dreams were damn near unattainable and he always woke up with sorrow weighing in his gut like a brick.

"You are getting very light, Birdie," Espenov noted between heavy breaths as Kaz rocked in his lap, his head bowed and his hands splayed over Espenov's chest. "Are you eating enough?"

Kaz nodded. It was easier to lie when one didn't speak, and Espenov didn't question him. At least, not at that point, but it wasn't long before he grew suspicious, and his suspicion soon bled into more worry.

"Your hair is falling out," he fretted a few days after that, staring down at his hand and the locks of brown that had gotten stuck to it when he'd run his hand through Kaz's hair. "Are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

Kaz always nodded. He might as well have been a bobble head.

Fatigue dragged him down into its gnarled grasp, and Kaz found himself crawling back into bed once Espenov was gone, sleeping the entire morning away until a concerned maid shook him awake and offered him lunch, which was always flushed down the toilet once she was gone. After that, he returned to bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes just lying there and staring off into nothing.

"The staff is telling me that you sleep all day," Espenov noted at dinner a week or so later. "They say that you only rise when they wake you up for lunch, and when you're finished you go straight back to bed. Is this true?"

Once again, Kaz nodded.

Espenov leaned over the table, and at first Kaz thought he was going to kiss him to initiate round two, but instead the back of Espenov's hand was pressed against his forehead to see if he was running a fever, which he wasn't.

"Do you feel dizzy? Sick? Should I get a Healer?"

Kaz shook his head and that was the end of that.

It eventually grew hard to even get up in the morning. He'd awake to find Espenov rolling him over and slipping off his boxers and would close his eyes the entire time.

He was so, so tired.

He'd pick at his breakfast until Espenov had to leave and then return to bed, burrowing under the covers and dreaming that he was back at the Slat and that the lingering warmth beside him wasn't from his rapist having slept there but rather from Inej, and he imagined that she'd come to him in the night while he was asleep and laid with him to keep him company.

And yet, she was always gone before he woke up, slipping through his fingers like water.

When Espenov came home to find Kaz's cold lunch untouched and Kaz himself huddled among the pillows, he checked his temperature again.

"You're not warm," he muttered, mostly to himself as he pressed his hand against Kaz's forehead and kissed him there for good measure, just to make sure. "And I think you've been lying to me when I ask you whether or not you feel okay. Is this true?"

Kaz shook his head, and Espenov ran his hand down his face. Espenov definitely knew he was lying, and yet he didn't beat him or make him sleep on the floor. Kaz found that he was doing those things a whole lot less since Heleen had gone.

Sighing, Markus finally decided, "I'm calling in a Healer. Something's most definitely wrong."

Malnutrition. That was the physical cause, the Healer explained, but he was able to diagnose something else, something that didn't involve the body but rather the mind.

"I've analyzed the symptoms. No talking. Sleeping a lot. Hair loss. Lack of appetite," the Healer explained, giving Kaz a once over. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast as the two men conversed in front of him. "It's depression. The most severe case I've seen so far.

Espenov's eyes flew to Kaz, who said nothing. He never said anything.

"I've never seen the signs−"

"Probably because you're never here. You leave him alone with no human contact for twelve hours every day. _Twelve hours_. I'm surprised he hasn't gone mad by now. Can he still communicate?"

"Yeah, he nods and shakes his head to answer my questions."

"But does he ever _communicate_? Like, do something other than answer questions? Saying something other than yes or no?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then something has to change."

-Ӝ-

Espenov took the Healer's words to heart, to the point where Kaz wondered why Espenov was going through so much trouble to help him when the man could just as easily shoot him and dump his body into the harbor so he could score another, way hotter piece of tail elsewhere.

The man even stopped going to work, and upon Kaz's curious stare, told him, "I'm not going back until I'm sure that you're okay."

He tried to inadvertently bribe Kaz into being happy, which of course did little to help him. He was given lavish clothes that would never be worn, bounteous feasts that did little to ease the pit in his stomach, and a diamond necklace that would make Tante Heleen froth at the mouth.

"Do you like it?" Espenov would always ask, and Kaz would always nod.

But he was a new person, one whose greed didn't rule his mind any longer. Beforehand, he probably would've given an arm and a leg to have such luxuries, would've sold off all of his shares of the Crow Club to even live half of this life, but what was the point of having money when there was nowhere to spend it and no one to show it off to?

He'd moved on from all of that, though the necklace always sat at the hollow of his throat. It wasn't that he thought it was particularly pretty, it was that it reminded him of Heleen. Reminded him that things had once been much, much worse.

But no matter how many watches and necklaces he was given and no matter how many clothes were crammed into his dresser that was hardly ever opened, Kaz wasn't any happier. He still preferred sleep over eating, talking, sex, and being awake in general, but he couldn't deny that Espenov's concern was oddly comforting; it was nice to know that someone cared about him, albeit that someone was his rapist.

Espenov caught on pretty quickly that his extravagant gifts were doing very little, and spent an entire day thinking and consulting his friends and staff, and he'd returned to the room with a wide grin on his face, a grin that Kaz wasn't sure whether to be terrified or curious about.

The very next day, Espenov had the bedroom filled with vases and troughs. He brought in florists and gardeners until every inch of the room was overflowing with vibrantly colored flowers, the space brimming with the smell of earth and exotic plants imported from the far reaches of the earth.

"The cook told me that flowers had helped his son who was in a similar place," Espenov explained as he observed his handiwork. "I just hope that it does the same for you."

Before, Kaz would've hated it, would've hated the brightness of the room and the new smells assaulting his nose, but he was desperate now, desperate for something good and beautiful in his life that was consumed by darkness.

Kaz absolutely adored the flowers, though he'd never care to admit it aloud, and spent the days tending to them after getting lessons from some of the gardeners. There wasn't a time where he wasn't busy watering or fertilizing or planting, the undersides of his fingernails always caked in dirt and his skin always smelling of a forest after rain.

Espenov would often return home to find Kaz swathed in silks, diamonds glittering at his throat as he trimmed the hydrangeas and took on the project of removing every single thorn from the rose plants simply because he had the time. These tasks often left him in compromising positions, and when Espenov arrived, Kaz usually found himself bent over the planters, though not to tend to the flowers in them this time.

Despite this, his mood still improved drastically. He no longer slept all day because he knew that his flowers would suffer if he did so, and his appetite returned as the work sapped his energy.

Eventually, his voice was restored, too.

Espenov was so delighted about this that he didn't care in the slightest that the bedroom had turned into an indoor garden, with planters lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling and vases lining every available space.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" Espenov asked as he came up behind Kaz, who was planting a new batch of exotic flowers that he thought would complement the daffodils growing nearby. He couldn't even pronounce their names, but the fully grown ones looked pretty, though they needed incredibly precise and diligent care to keep them alive.

He wrapped his arms around Kaz's middle, pressing his chest against his back and resting his chin in the junction between Kaz's shoulder and neck. "You're absolutely beautiful."

"You really think so?" Kaz asked, craning his neck to look back at Espenov accusingly. "Don't lie to me."

"Why would I lie, Birdie? You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life."

For the first since he'd arrived at Espenov's house, a genuine smile touched Kaz's face, and he blushed, looking away as their fingers twined over Kaz's abdomen, but the moment didn't last for long as Espenov started hiking up Kaz's shirt.

"Not now," Kaz chuckled, pulling his shirt back down. "I'm busy. Maybe later."

But Espenov was stubborn, and Kaz's smile melted off of his face.

"No, Markus," he insisted with a slight edge to his voice, lightly pushing the man away. "I need to concentrate on these flowers. They need to be perfectly prepared and planted as quickly as possible or else they'll die. _Later_."

But Espenov was then pressed all along Kaz's back, his hand fisted into Kaz's hair and forcing him to bend over the planter.

"No!" Kaz shrilled, wrenching out of his grip and stumbling back. "Can you wait five damn minutes?!"

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Espenov bellowed, and fear launched Kaz's heart into a frenzy as the man grabbed his shoulders, his hands like bear traps as his fingers dug bruises into his skin. "I've been waiting all day to bend you over and now you're telling me _no?_ "

"I didn't say no!" Kaz snapped, though his voice wavered. "I said later. Markus, my flowers−"

"You're not a gardener! That's not your job!" He ripped Kaz's shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. " _This_ is your job!"

"But−"

"Shut the fuck up or I'll throw all of these fucking plants out the window and let you bawl your eyes out all day about them! This kind of behavior will not stand in this house!"

Kaz's eyes blazed, and for the first time since Tante Heleen, he felt fury replacing his fear, setting his veins alight with a fire that he thought had been beaten down long ago.

"Fuck off! I'm not your dog! You can't be an adult and wait five minutes while I plant some fucking flowers?"

Kaz yelped as Espenov backhanded him across the face, struggling as the man hauled him over to the bed.

"I might just have to bring Heleen back to reteach you some goddamn manners!"

Kaz thought he might vomit, suddenly acutely aware of the diamonds at his throat as he thought of being at the mercy of that woman again, and that only made him thrash harder in the man's grip.

"Or I'll just keep you in the basement and put some other brown-haired slut in here that'll be a bit more grateful. I'll be giving him all the presents and love and fuck you bloody every night to sate my needs. There will be nothing in there but stone. No beds, no windows, no bathrooms. Just your miserable fucking self and me."

His words made Kaz freeze, and Espenov manhandled him onto the bed, towering over him.

"What's it gonna be, Birdie?"

With trembling hands, Kaz started undoing the buttons on Espenov's shirt, his heart stuttering in his chest.

"That's more like it."

"I'm sorry."

"Show me how sorry you are, and then perhaps I'll forgive you."

Afterward, Kaz slid from the bed and limped over to the unfinished planting project, taking up the seed package and peering inside. Espenov watched him indifferently as Kaz clamped a hand over his mouth.

All of the seeds were dead, dried out and shriveled up. It was the last seed packet of the season, and he'd have to wait two years for them to be available again.

He covered his face with his hands and wept.

The next night, Espenov brought him a gift-wrapped box in the evening when he returned from work. Kaz perked up from where he was lounging on the bed reading, his face smudged with dirt from wrestling a batch of petunias into their respective pots, and watched as Espenov bustled over, the box outstretched.

“I got something for you when I was walking back,” he explained excitedly, pressing the gift into Kaz’s hands. His smile faltered a bit. “Perhaps it’s meant to be an…apology, for yesterday. You’d been talking about planting those flowers for ages.”

“You didn’t have to,” Kaz murmured out of politeness, but on the inside, he was full to bursting with excitement. Images of embroidered gardening mitts and compartments full of all kinds of seeds came to mind, and he shook the box, listening for the telltale sound of seeds rattling, though there was none of the sort. “Where did you get this?”

“The West Stave.”

Kaz faltered. “But the West Stave is where the brothels—”

“Shh. Just open it.”

His excitement bubbled away into anxiety as he undid the pretty gold bow with trembling fingers, trying to ignore Espenov’s hungry gaze as he picked at the wrapping paper and ripped it away, revealing a rosy red box with curling silver script over it.

_The White Rose_

“But…”

“Open it,” Espenov insisted, though there was a growl behind his words that had Kaz quickly complying.

Kaz was greeted by an exorbitant amount of tissue paper, and he wilted under Espenov’s scrutiny as he peeled back the layers to discover what lay inside.

His heart sank like a dumbbell that someone had dropped into the depths of the sea as he produced a black, lacy piece of lingerie, holding it up in front of him and trying to doubt what he was seeing.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it? I spotted it in the window of the White Rose and knew that I had to see you wearing it.”

Kaz’s mouth wouldn’t work. He’d grown accustomed to being naked around Espenov, and technically this garment was better than nothing, but the thought of wearing it, of making himself seem even more alluring to Espenov, made himself nauseous.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he murmured, setting the box aside and hurrying away, pulling his silks more tightly around himself as if they could protect him from the lacy monstrosity hidden away in that box.

He was just finished pissing when he heard the telltale sound of Espenov shouldering inside, his body going cold all over.

Espenov had the lingerie clutched in one fist, and he held it up to Kaz. “Put this on.”

“I…I don’t want to.” Memories of yesterday’s fight stood at the forefront of his mind, reminding him of what happened when he dared to tell Espenov no.

“Put. It. On.”

Kaz folded his arms tightly over his chest, bowing his head as his shoulders hunched. “I d-don’t want to.”

“Kaz.” He’d made Kaz’s own name into a threat, the syllable a bitter warning on his tongue.

“Please, Markus, don’t make me wear that.” He wiped at his face, sniffing because he knew it was inevitable. No was not an answer in this house, it never was. It was only a matter of putting off what was to come. “I’m not…I’m not a woman. I d-d-don’t want to w-wear it.”

“Kaz Brekker.” Another warning, another threat. “Put this on.”

“Markus. Please.”

“I’m not going to ask you again. One more denial out of that pretty mouth of yours and the maid’s going to have to clean the sheets of your blood tomorrow. Think about your next words carefully.”

A broken sob escaped Kaz’s lips, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to smother it, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he reached out with trembling fingers and took the garment.

“Now, be a good bitch and put in on.”

“I’m not a bitch,” Kaz whispered even as he untied his silk robe and allowed it to slip from his shoulders, revealing miles of pale skin dotted with hickeys and bruises.

He shivered as he put the lingerie on, his face flushed with humiliation. He could handle Espenov using his body like a toy, could handle the sickly crooning in his ear and the hands digging into his hips, but this…?

The lace slithered over his skin like the coils of a gigantic snake. It was a one-piece, clearly meant for men in the sense that there was more room on the bottom and no cups to hold a woman’s breasts, but the differences ended there.

“You look gorgeous, bitch.”

“I’m not a bitch,” Kaz whimpered, hugging himself, but he quickly returned his arms to his sides at Espenov’s pointed look.

“Fine. You look gorgeous, slut.”

That one was even worse. “Don't call me that. Please.”

“Birdie, I thought we agreed you were going to stop crying about things like this, hm?” Espenov prompted as tears fell hot down Kaz’s cheeks. “You remember what the punishment for doing that is, right? Do I have to make good on my threat?”

“N-n-no.”

“I’m going to give you five seconds to stop crying. One, two, three, four…”

Kaz stopped at three, forcing himself to shut down and wiping away the remains of his sorrow with a trembling hand. He went obediently to the bed when Espenov guided him there.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled Kaz into his lap, grinding against him as his pupils blew wide. His hands ran all over Kaz’s body, up and down the lace-clad planes of his back and the curve of his hips. Kaz grinded back and clutched Espenov’s shoulders as he panted, but his eyes burned.

_Slip away. Slip away._

“Gorgeous, gorgeous,” Espenov rambled, mouthing along Kaz’s collarbone and sucking another hickey into his neck. “All mine. Only mine. My gorgeous little birdie bitch.”

He kneaded Kaz’s ass though the lace, and Kaz couldn’t even bear to look him in the eye, screwing his eyelids closed and hoping he looked lost in the pleasure that he didn’t feel. Espenov was rock hard against him and Kaz wasn’t even remotely turned on, which would have to change lest he risk Espenov’s anger.

 He’d already pushed his patience so far today, he didn’t think he could risk going any further.

Espenov fucked him rough that night. He’d fingered Kaz a little beforehand so it didn’t hurt as much as it could’ve as he shoved Kaz’s face into the mattress and rutted into him like an animal.

It wasn’t the worst sex they’d had, but the lingerie was apparently “easy access” and didn’t need to be taken off for the actual act, which made Kaz all the more revolted by it as the fabric tugged and skimmed along his flesh.

Espenov fell asleep soon after, sated and grinning to himself even as he slept, and Kaz slid out of bed and limped to the toilet, crumbling to his knees and willing the vomit to come, but it didn’t. He let out a ragged breath, pressing his face against the porcelain and uncaring of where it had been and who used it.

Why had he opened the box? Why hadn’t he just told Espenov to save it for Yule or some other holiday, preferably one far away from now? But it was no use regretting what he could’ve said; what’s done was done.

Then, suddenly, Kaz’s eyes flew open.

Choking on his own breathing, he slipped from the bathroom and over to the empty box, which had slid off of the bed during his and Espenov’s…activities. He rifled through the tissue paper as quietly as he could, flinching at every crinkle and rustle it made, but Espenov remained fast asleep.

Dread settled over his shoulders as his searching became more and more desperate, and Kaz thought he would scream his relief to the Heavens when he finally found what he was looking for; the metal pin that had secured the tag to the lingerie. It was perfect for lock-picking.

Kaz wasted no time scampering to the door, fumbling with the pin as he inserted it into the lock and allowed his body to take over and do the rest for him. This was easy. It was just a simple bedroom lock that usually required a key that he’d so many times tried and failed to steal from Espenov.

The lock rattled, and Kaz broke out into a cold sweat. The lingerie was constricting him. He couldn’t breathe, but he had to unlock this door or he was going to die here. He had to unlock it, he had to, he had to he _had to—_

“Birdie.”

Kaz froze, the pin falling from his limp fingers as a shadow loomed up behind him, cast by the light of the moon against Espenov’s towering figure.

“I'm very disappointed in you. You know the drill.”

A soft sob escaped Kaz’s lips as he rose to his feet and hobbled over to the dresser, sliding open the top drawer and producing the gag, a strip of simple but thick cloth. He obediently placed it into his own mouth and tied it at the back of his head, crawling onto the bed and lying on his back with his legs open and his arms lip at his sides.

“I don’t want to have to do this to you, Kaz, but you give me no choice. You bring this upon yourself every time.”

He was right. Kaz was such a fucking idiot. Why was he so worthless? He couldn’t even pick a lock on a fucking _bedroom door_ anymore. He was good at nothing but what Heleen had taught him to be. Perhaps she was right. Maybe he did belong here.

Even as Espenov shoved in dry and he screamed against the gag, tears falling in earnest, a voice inside of him whispered, _This is what you deserve, you dumb bitch._

The more time that passed, the more the two of them started becoming more like a normal couple.

Espenov gave Kaz permission to wander the house, knowing fully well that there were too many guards in and around it for him to escape, and the change of scenery was so needed that Kaz broke down crying the moment he stepped out of the bedroom. His eyes actually hurt for the first few weeks, so unused to looking farther than a few feet in front of him.

Kaz slowly found himself growing less dependent on his room garden as he was swept up in Espenov's gigantic library and captivated by the enormous windows that gave him a much better view than the barred ones in the bedroom.

Despite the fact that Kaz was no longer within the room all day, Espenov denied all of the staff's offers to take some of the plants outside; Kaz didn't need them to keep himself going anymore, but he still cared about them dearly.

Though the garden within it was one of the treasures of his heart, Kaz developed a deep-seated hatred for the bedroom. Heleen had taught him to be a good faker, so he never let on how much he loathed the room, but now that he had the freedom to wander the house, he despised returning to the wretched cage that he was trapped in for many months, despised the terrible memories that permeated the walls there.

"Someone could see us," Espenov chuckled, not seeming at all concerned as he arched up mouth at Kaz's bare collarbone, and Kaz gasped softly, fingers tangling into Espenov's hair and clutching the couch cushions for dear life.

"You said you locked the door," he pointed out, nipping at Espenov's lower lip. "We should be fine."

"Yeah, but someone might look through the windows," he insisted, shucking off his own shirt before flipping the two of them over so that his hips were slotted between Kaz's legs. "I can't believe you were able to goad me into this."

"It's a break from the bedroom," Kaz snickered, biting his lip as he helped Espenov ease his pants down. "My back's gonna kill me later, though."

"Then why don't we−?"

"We're already down to our underwear, Markus. What do you want to do, redress?"

"You do have a point," Espenov snorted, snatching a pillow up to tuck it behind Kaz's head before getting down to business.

For the first time in his life, Kaz genuinely enjoyed it. It wasn't heated or sexy in the slightest, the couch springs creaking softly and the two of them laughing and murmuring to one another the entire time. It was intimate and unhurried and beautiful, and he didn't hesitate to tell Espenov so.

"We should do this more often, then," he hushed against Kaz's skin, his forehead and chest glistening with sweat. "You seem to be liking it more than usual."

 _That's because I'm liking it for the first time,_ Kaz wanted to say, but he didn't, instead opting to sigh softly into the junction between Espenov's shoulder and neck, kissing the heated skin there.

Afterward, the two lay tangled together, kissing languidly before Kaz broke away to announce, "Well, someone is going to have to clean this up."

"Not me," Espenov groaned. "I feel like I just ran a marathon, and I am _not_ putting clothes on."

"Hey, you're the only one who can walk right now," Kaz pointed out, legs still wrapped around Espenov's middle, his ankles crossed at the small of the man's back. He was suffering from a notable but quite satisfying ache that was loudly discouraging him from getting up as of that moment. "Your turn."

"Ugh fine. Five more minutes, though."

"Very well, five more minutes."

That night, Kaz slipped from Espenov's arms and lit a candle, putting it in a holder before slinking down the hall.

"Good evening, Mr. Brekker," the guards muttered, dipping their heads as he passed, and Kaz gave them nods of acknowledgement as he made his way down to the library. His heart in his throat as he felt the curious and watchful eyes of the guards on his back, he ran his fingers over the many bound volumes in the nonfiction section before he stopped at the one he'd been too hesitant to open during the day.

_Dr. Yelvich's Encyclopedia of Maladies of the Mind_

Tucking himself into the couch, he opened up the thick book to the "S" section.

Schizophrenia. Separation anxiety. Sleep terror disorder. Sleep paralysis. Social anxiety.

Kaz sucked in a breath, the candle's flame flickering as his fingers ghosted over the giant heading on the next page, his fingertips tracing over the bold lettering.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

Kaz didn't want to continue. He didn't need to read about this; he didn't have Stockholm syndrome. He didn't! But the way he'd felt today, how good and happy he was in Espenov− his rapist and abuser's− arms, he thought of no other explanation. Wiping furiously at his eyes, he returned his gaze to the paper and read:

_Stockholm syndrome is a condition that causes hostages to develop a psychological alliance with their captors as a survival strategy during captivity._

Kaz ran a hand down his face. He couldn't read any longer. But he had to. He had to know if it was true.

_These feelings, resulting from a bond formed between captor and captive during intimate time spent together, are generally considered irrational in light of danger or risk endured by the victims. Generally speaking, Stockholm syndrome consists of strong emotional ties that develop between two persons where one person intermittently harasses, beats, threatens, abuses, or intimidates the other._

There was more, but Kaz couldn't bear to read it. Rising to his feet, he picked the candle back up and left the book open, returning back to the room and listening to the guards shuffle over to examine it and mutter among themselves.

"Where'd you go?" Espenov grunted sleepily as soon as Kaz slid back under the covers, "I missed you."

"I was gone for five minutes."

"Yeah, but I still missed you."

"Hush. Go back to sleep. You have work tomorrow."

"Fine. Bossy."

Espenov was out like a light as soon as the words left his lips, his even breaths ghosting over the back of Kaz's neck and his arms tightly secured around his middle.

Kaz's eyes slipped closed, and he wondered how he could feel so content here in Espenov's arms. Not months ago, he was getting whipped and beaten daily in this very room. He'd fall asleep in this exact position and instead of enjoying it he'd beg for Ghezen to take him, beg for death at any cost. In this bed he was fucked bloody and had screamed for his friends, for Inej, but now he was peaceful, at ease in this new skin Espenov had built for him. Espenov had been the one to break him, but he was also the one who'd fixed him again.

He lay awake, staring off into the dark and pondering how things could've changed, before sleep finally claimed him and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

-Ӝ-

"How would you like to come outside with me?" Espenov asked on his day off as the two of them sat next to each other in the dining room, shoveling breakfast down their throats because honestly the cook was the greatest woman ever to grace the earth.

Kaz choked on his bacon, and it took a few minutes of him coughing up his lungs and Espenov patting his back before he was able to breathe right again.

"What?" he spluttered. "Go outside? With you?"

"Well, yeah," Espenov muttered, twirling his fork idly. "I mean, it's a big property."

 _Big enough that you won't feel like you need to escape._ The unsaid sentence hung in the air like the elephant in the room, but they both did their best to ignore it.

Espenov continued, "I feel terrible knowing you're cooped up inside all day, and I feel fucking awful knowing that at one point you were locked in one small room…" He shook his head. "But I think it's high time to allow you to go outside. Not without myself or an escort, of course…if that's okay with you."

Kaz leaned over and planted a kiss on Espenov's lips, his heart fluttering against his ribcage. "That would be wonderful."

Once they finished breakfast, they rose from their seats and slipped out of the dining room, leaving their plates for the servants to clean up. Espenov held out his arm and Kaz gladly took it, trying to ignore how the two of them had been in the same position when Espenov was walking Kaz into the mansion on that fateful night.

They approached the front door, and the guards balked when they saw Kaz accompanying Espenov.

"We'd like to go out, please. Perhaps for a ride," Espenov announced, at the guards exchanged a look.

"You're bringing Mr. Brekker, sir?"

"Why else would he be with me right now?"

The guards hesitated before opening the doors for them, their eyes boring into them as they passed as if they expected Kaz to be digging a knife into Espenov's back.

The doors closed behind them and then Kaz was standing outside, barefoot and staring up at the sky for the first time in months. The sun stared back.

Hands slipping from Espenov's arms, Kaz crumbled to his knees and wept, pressing his forehead against the paving stones as if in prayer.

"You okay?" Espenov murmured, crouching beside him.

Kaz sobbed, covering his face with his hands. He was outside. He felt the sun on his skin and the breeze through his hair without a window estranging him from it. He'd walked on these stones only once before, in early winter, but now it was summer and they were no longer as cold and unforgiving, but rather warm to the touch.

"Let's bring you to the grass," Espenov suggested, offering a hand to help Kaz to his feet. "It's better than the path."

Kaz nodded numbly, leaning on Espenov for balance as he was led to the lawn, which was alive with lush green grass that seemed to go on forever. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

They walked for a while upon Espenov's request; he wanted to be out of the view of the mansion, claiming that he didn't want anyone peering through the windows during this private moment. The grass grew tall here, up to Kaz's knees, and once they were sure that they were alone, Kaz collapsed spread-eagle into it, closing his eyes.

It was so long since he'd felt grass.

"Enjoying yourself?" Espenov chuckled, lying beside him, and Kaz grunted an affirmative as the two of them lay there, soaking up the sun's gentle rays. "I assume we're saving the horseback riding for another time?"

Kaz nodded, still not opening his eyes.

There was a long stretch of silence that Kaz relished in as he listened to the sound of the breeze rustling the grass and the distant whinnying of horses in the stables. Seagulls cried out, circling above them, and Kaz could smell the salt and brine in the air from the nearby sea. If he strained his ears hard enough, he could hear the sounds of Ketterdam.

Ship bells rang out, signaling the arrival of supplies and tourists and migrants looking for work. Factory whistles and horseshoes clanging on cobblestones echoed through bustling streets full to bursting with people, and in that moment he longed so much for Ketterdam− the _real_ Ketterdam, not this mansion that was on the outskirts of it− that it almost made him physically sick.

He wanted with every fiber of his being to walk those streets again, to listen to the sound of merchants and storeowners harking their wares and the symphony of people's boots hitting the ground. He even missed the Komedie Brute and their bright and colorful costumes cutting through the sea of dull blacks and greys, as well as the sloshing of brackish water in the canals. The only thing he wanted in that moment was to fly to the Slat and run up the steps to see his friends. His family.

He wanted to talk and be with them, wanted to see how things were doing now that he was gone and Espenov had bought up the Crow Club, forcing the Dregs to find income elsewhere. But most of all, he wanted to see Inej, his Wraith, leaning against the wall, watching him with a smile on her face. He wanted to run to her and embrace her and tell her how much he'd missed her.

And yet…

He turned to Espenov, who had his eyes closed, almost as if he was asleep. Like this, he seemed years younger. Decades, even. What would Espenov do when he was gone? Would he find someone else and call it a day? For some reason, the thought of Espenov finding another man, bringing him home, and cherishing them like he did with Kaz made Kaz sick to his stomach. He didn't understand why.

Then again, despite the fact that that situation was entirely possible, a part of Kaz was skeptical. He didn't think Espenov would move on.

_"I missed you."_

_"I was gone for five minutes."_

_"Yeah, but I still missed you."_

His body moved of its own accord and pressed his lips against Espenov's, bringing his hands up to cradle the man's face and run his fingers over the heavy stubble there.

Espenov's eyes snapped open but almost immediately fluttered shut as his strong hands flew to Kaz's hips, hiking up his shirt so that his fingertips could brush over the soft skin of his stomach.

"This is…uncalled for," he managed to say between kisses as Kaz threw his leg over his middle to straddle him.

Espenov pulled Kaz's shirt over his head, exposing his porcelain skin to the summer sun for the first time in a long while, and Kaz leaned over to mouth at Espenov's chest as he popped the buttons on the man's shirt, exposing more and more skin to his hungry gaze.

"You're beautiful," Espenov whispered harshly as his shirt was discarded and his belt was undone by deft hands. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Once the two of them were down to skin, Espenov arranged their clothes into a makeshift blanket and laid Kaz gently on top of it, the sex that ensued anything but gentle, though that didn't make it any less enjoyable. The two of them crumpled into a tangled heap afterward, both of them covered in sweat and severely out of breath, and Espenov leaned over Kaz with a look in his eyes that was akin to worship.

"I love you," he whispered, and Kaz's pounding heart did summersaults. "I…I love you."

Kaz didn't bother lying, arching up to press his lips gently against Espenov's before whispering, "And perhaps, in time, I will love you, too."

Espenov let out a heavy breath, his expression absolutely wrecked. It was the first time Kaz had seen him not look entirely in control.

"By Ghezen, that time better be soon," he muttered. "Because I'd give everything, every single fucking thing, if it meant that you'd say it back."

"I know you would." Kaz ran his fingers through Espenov's hair as the man laid beside him. "I know you would."

-Ӝ-

He said it every day after that.

He'd whisper it against Kaz's hair the moment he woke up and hush the words into Kaz's skin when they had sex. He'd tell him right before he bid Kaz farewell when he went to work, and slur it blearily in the wee hours of the morning if he just so happened to wake during the night.

"I love you. I love you. I love you..."

Kaz would never say it back, and never deceived Espenov to make him think anything but the truth. He'd respond with "I know" because he didn't know what else to say.

Kaz scoured the bookshelves for some sort of explanation, some sort of cure for what he was feeling. He didn't want to love Espenov, the man who'd raped him, abused him, and taken him away from everything he'd ever known, but his heart still was feather light whenever the man was around.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

He read every single book there was to read on the topic, his eyes scanning the lines of print over and over to search for some answer, any answer.

 _"Put the victim back in the normal world,"_ the books usually read, _"Let them assimilate back into normal society."_

But what was he supposed to do when that wasn't possible for him? Just succumb to it? Was there nothing he could do?

Inej. Inej. Inej.

Her name was a constant chant in his mind. He couldn't get back to her, but if there was one day that he could, would she ever take him back? Even after he told her what he and Espenov did together? Then again, she probably thought he was dead. She'd probably waited for him to come out of the mansion the next day, knowing fully well what must've happened during the night, only for it to be in vain.

She'd probably mourn for a while before she found someone else during her voyages at sea, and he curled up in the bathroom and wept bitterly for her when Espenov wasn't home and the guards weren't around to watch.

What was he going to do?

What the _hell_ was he going to do?

He was lying awake in bed when resignation settled heavily onto his shoulders, and he slipped out of Espenov's arms, careful not to wake him. With a jackhammering heart, he slipped into the closet and rifled around in the back as quietly as he could, knowing fully well what he was looking for and damn sure that it was still there.

His blood ran cold when his fingers closed around the handle of the club. It'd been shoved to the back as it was used less and less, until it was completely overcome by shoes and belts and other whatnot. It was still there, though, albeit Espenov had probably forgotten about it, probably assuming he'd thrown it away.

But Kaz remembered.

Taking one last look back at Espenov− who was still sleeping peacefully, his hand splayed over the empty spot where Kaz had lain− Kaz's shoulders squared as he rose to his feet and slipped from the room as silently as a shadow.

The guards at the front door jolted to attention when Kaz approached with the club in hand, their expressions morphing into ones of fear when they saw him. They must've been thinking that this was it, this was the moment Kaz snapped.

"Mr. Brekker?" one of them asked hesitantly.

"May I go outside? With an escort, of course."

"What's that in your hands?"

"The club he used to beat me with. I'd like to bury it."

The two guards exchanged a panicked look before one of them stepped forward and gestured to the door. "After you."

Kaz nodded to him and slipped out the door, the guard at his heels. They walked for a while, until they reached the edge of the property, where there was a hole going under the fence that Kaz had noticed when horseback riding with Espenov. The guards hadn't seemed to notice it yet, since it was only just large enough for someone to squeeze under, made by a fox or a dog perhaps.

"Would you like me to turn around?" the guard asked as Kaz stared at the grass underfoot.

"Yes, that would be nice."

The guard turned, which made it easier for Kaz to smack him on the back of the head with the club, and he didn't even have time to cry for help as he crumpled into a heap on the ground.

"Sorry," Kaz whispered, turning to the hole in the fence.

Freedom was right there. He could run. He could run for Ketterdam and disappear among the millions of faceless people.

The club fell to the floor as Kaz dropped to the grass, making a move to start wriggling under the fence, but something made him stop.

If he ran now, what would he be returning to?

The Dregs and probably every other gang in the Barrel were weak or disbanded from Espenov buying up all of their properties, and with a sinking stomach, he realized that he was the glue that was holding his friends together. Inej had probably returned to sea with no way to contact her, Nina perhaps at her side or having gone to Ravka, and Wylan and Jesper had been talking about selling the Van Eck mansion and moving back to Noyvi Zem with Colm to get away from the city.

He'd come back to nothing but an empty husk.

Just like when he'd crawled out of the canal, the city would offer no comfort or safety, not to mention Espenov would probably tear it up by the roots to try and find him.

Kaz was happy at this mansion with Espenov, despite it being fucked up, and he wondered if living a miserable life in the Barrel would be better than the twisted happiness that he was feeling here.

Sitting back on his haunches, Kaz's shoulders sagged as he waited, and when he raised his head to look up at the polluted sky, the stars blinked at him, blurry.

He wasn't sure how long he waited before he heard the baying of hounds. He could run now, could still get away, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He couldn't stop thinking about Espenov and Inej, both of their faces warring for dominance in his mind.

Pretty soon the sound of footsteps thundered toward him.

"Kaz!" Espenov sounded furious and, under that, slightly frantic. "Kaz, what the fuck?!"

Kaz didn't look up, staring down at his hands as guards encircled him, whispering among themselves when they saw their comrade slumped on the ground beside him.

"He's not dead," he murmured. "I didn't kill him."

"What's this?!" Espenov was seething, pacing behind Kaz like a madman, and his fury only made Kaz shiver. "What in Ghezen's name were you planning on doing?"

"I was going to escape," Kaz murmured. More whispering among the guards.

"I cannot fucking believe you," Espenov growled, stalking over until he was towering in front of Kaz, his silhouette blotting out the stars. "What were you thinking?!"

"I don't know." A tear trickled down Kaz's cheek. "I don't know if I was thinking at all."

"What should we do with him, sir?" one of the guards asked, a snarling dog straining against the leash in his hand.

"You will do nothing. This is something I have to handle." He sounded deathly calm. "Please excuse us."

Slowly but hesitantly, the guards retreated.

As soon as they were gone, Kaz's gaze slid to the club, and Espenov's eyes followed where he was looking before he went rigid all over, leaning down to pick it up. Kaz hadn't seen the club in Espenov's hands in months, and the sight only served to bring back terrible memories.

"Where'd you get this?"

Kaz managed to curl on himself even further. "You never threw it out. It was in the closet."

"And you've known this the entire time?"

Kaz nodded, leaving many questions hanging in the air. Why didn't he take the club and smash Espenov's skull in during the night and escape just like he did today? Why hadn't he done this earlier, when he knew that all of the guards didn't see him as a threat anymore?

"Do it," Kaz whispered, looking up at Espenov for the first time. "Beat me. Don't use the slick tonight and be rough. Make me sleep on the floor after."

"What?"

"Come on!" Kaz cried, hugging himself. He needed things to be simple again. He needed to have something to fear, a clear enemy that he had to submit to rather than having all of these feelings entwined along with it. "What are you waiting for? Do it!"

Espenov knelt down onto the grass, and Kaz realized that he was crying in earnest now, hot tears spilling over his cheeks.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?" he asked.

"I don't know what to think anymore, okay? I don't know…"

"It's okay, it's okay," Espenov murmured, wrapping his arms around Kaz when he sagged against his chest. "I love you. I'd never hurt you. Not anymore. I'm a changed man."

"So am I," Kaz replied softly. "Because I think I love you, too."

Espenov exhaled raggedly, holding him even tighter, a huge grin breaking out across his face.

"By Ghezen. By fucking Ghezen," he whispered, and Kaz could feel his smile against his neck. "You're joking with me, right?"

"To be honest, I wish I was," Kaz replied wearily.

He allowed Espenov to pick him up bridal-style and carry him back to the mansion. They left a trail of clothes to the bed, where he laid Kaz down onto the mattress and worshipped him with his mouth before making tender love to him.

"I love you," Espenov whispered as the bed creaked and the headboard gently hit against the wall.

"I love you, too," Kaz replied, smiling.

He wondered when he'd last said those words. To Jordie, perhaps. He'd certainly never said it to anyone who wasn't family. Not even to Inej.

The thought of Inej threatened to drag him under, but he looked up at Espenov and concentrated on the man's face. He'd chosen Espenov today. Chosen him over his freedom. He knew that should scare him, and in a way it did, but as Espenov's eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't help but bask in the moment.

He was happy.

-Ӝ-

It happened on a Saturday, about a week or so after that night.

"Markus!" Kaz cried, shaking Espenov awake, and the man was on his feet in seconds.

"What?! Where?!" he slurred, staggering as his head whipped from side to side in search of danger. His bleary gaze followed where Kaz was pointing to the window. "What is it?!"

"Look how hard it's raining!"

Espenov's panicked expression morphed into one of annoyance, and Kaz thought he looked like a grumpy tomcat that was pissed about losing his beauty sleep. "I thought someone had broken in and was trying to kill us! You woke me up just to tell me it's raining hard outside?!"

He plopped back down on the mattress, his feet dangling over the side, running his hands down his face and scratching his stubble idly. Kaz chuckled and patted his shoulder before sliding off of the bed and padding to the door.

"Where are you going?" Espenov grunted, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Outside, of course," Kaz snorted, slipping out the door and down the hall before he could get a response, and he wasn't at all surprised when he heard the slapping of Espenov's bare feet on the floor as the man jogged to catch up with him.

The two of them hurried down the stairs and into the foyer, where the two guards looked shocked to find them up so early, and Kaz was out the door before Espenov could protest, letting out a cry of delight as he was pelted with droplets that were just cold enough to make him shiver but warm enough that he didn't need a jacket.

It was his first rain since he was allowed to come outside, and he wasn't going to miss it for the world.

The sky was a slate gray, clouds obscuring the light of the newborn sun, and despite the fact that there was no thunder, it was still raining incredibly hard. Kaz held up his hands to feel it drum against his skin, his vision going blurry as droplets collected on his lashes.

"Kaz!" Espenov cried from the doorway. "Get back here and put a coat on before you catch your death!"

"Make me!" Kaz cried, not hesitating to splash around in the puddles that had collected on the path, the hems of his pants sopping wet, and he let out an elated shriek when he felt Espenov's arms around him, spinning him around.

"You're foolish, you know that?" Espenov chuckled and placed Kaz back down on the ground. He looked a mix of nervous and happy, and Kaz wondered why. Was he really worried that Kaz would get sick? "You're beautiful and foolish."

Kaz didn't reply, too busy relishing in the feeling of the rain on his skin. He tilted his head up to the sky and opened his mouth to collect raindrops on his tongue, and he felt Espenov's eyes on him. The man wasn't concentrating on the rain, and in his peripheral vision Kaz could see his lips moving as if in prayer.

"Kaz?" he asked finally, and Kaz turned to look at him with bright eyes.

"Yes, Markus?"

Espenov wrung his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot before saying, "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes. Just as I love you."

"Well, I don't think I could ever have any sort of relationship with anyone else because you're…you're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Are you trying to flatter me before you seduce me with your wicked mercher charm?" Kaz teased, and Espenov laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Actually, no," he murmured. "I just wanted to say it out loud so you know how much you mean to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Being with you."

Kaz's heart launched straight into his throat, and his smile faded. "But?"

"There is no 'but'." Kaz sucked in a sharp breath as Espenov produced a small box from his pants pocket. "Kaz Brekker, will you marry me?"

"I..." Kaz covered his mouth as Espenov opened the box to reveal what at first looked like a simple silver wedding band, but only upon closer inspection did Kaz realize it was pure, polished platinum. It must've cost Espenov a fortune. "I…I don't know what to say."

Espenov's brows knitted.

"You don't?" he worried.

"No, it's just I..." Kaz thought of Inej. Thought about her long and hard. "You shouldn't be doing all of this for me."

"I shouldn't?"

"I'm a Barrel rat with no important family and no money to my name…at least, not anymore. You won't get anything out of marrying me."

"I'll get _you_ ," Espenov murmured. "Why would I want anything else? I don't need any money or political alliances."

"You're making a mistake by doing this."

"No, I'm not." Espenov sank to one knee and held up the ring. "I'll ask you again. Will you marry me, Kaz Brekker?"

If he said yes, he'd be bound to Espenov until one of them died. He'd be admitting that his feelings are true, setting it in stone. With much work, an "I love you"…or two, or three, or a hundred, could be revoked. But not with marriage.

Divorce was unthinkable, especially with Espenov, who probably either wouldn't allow it or would keep Kaz in the basement like he'd threatened all those months ago. He was still the same man who, almost a year ago, had held Kaz down onto that bed and took what he wanted by force, and had done so many times after that before Kaz started to enjoy it.

But still, Kaz thought about all of the times they'd spent together, how Espenov looked at him like he'd hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and how his heart was light whenever he was with him.

He loved Espenov. But still…

Inej's face at the forefront of his mind, Kaz held out his left hand.

"Yes."

-Ӝ-

There was no official wedding, no walking down the aisle or saying "I do"; even though Markus was a powerful man, no priest in Ketterdam would wed two men. Despite this, Kaz still filed with the Council to change his last name, so that he was no longer Kaz Brekker, the touch-repulsed Barrel rat with no morals and a sharp tongue, but rather Kaz Espenov, Markus Espenov's loving husband who smiled brightly and often and smelled like damp earth and summer rains.

Little things in his life started to change now that he was married.

For one thing, he could no longer think of Markus as "Espenov" for now he, too, was an Espenov. That fact was only solidified when he wandered the house and the property and was greeted by guards, who bowed and acknowledged, "Mr. Espenov." When talking about him to the maids or the butlers, Kaz no longer referred to him as "Mr. Espenov" but rather as "my husband" or "Markus."

He became an even bigger part of Markus' life than he already was, helping him with his vast amount of businesses that consumed most, if not all of Ketterdam, though their constant closeness within the study often led to thoroughly distracting activities on the desk. He hadn't done business like this in a year or so, but he wasn't the least bit out of practice and took to it like a fish to water.

"You're a blessing," Markus exclaimed when he found that work was a lot more enjoyable with the two of them working in tandem. "How did I not let you help me before?"

"I know, right?" Kaz scoffed, bent over a piece of paper and cataloguing all of the imports and exports of Jurda for that week, as well as calculating the profits and losses from it. "You can barely do simple maths. It's a miracle that you've survived this long without messing up your finances."

Markus snorted and kissed Kaz's temple, though he was batted away with a hissed, "We're never going to get anything done if we keep having sex in here all the time. Hold off for a little while longer and I'll blow you under the desk when we're finished."

His husband started holding meetings at the house so that he could have Kaz's advice at hand, and the two of them never failed to shock the merchers they were seated with, most who probably thought Kaz was Markus' advisor before Kaz excused himself to the bathroom and kissed him goodbye.

Markus would always prompt, "What?" and receive a chorus of "Nothing"s in reply, a chorus that never failed to have the two of them laughing their asses off as soon as everyone left.

"I'm so happy that I stayed with you," Kaz murmured one night as he slowly rocked in Markus' lap.

"I'm happy about that, too," was the breathless response.

Years passed, and Kaz never left the mansion or the gigantic property around it, and the couple sometimes butted heads during times when Kaz started growing a little stir-crazy.

Sure, the mansion was absolutely beautiful and he loved it with all his heart; it had grown to become his home, after all, and was no longer just Markus'. The stables, the gardens, and the property that went along with it were also a few of his favorite things and offered a great change of scenery, but, like that first day outside, Ketterdam called to him like the sea calls to a sailor, beckoning him with the sounds of its ships and pedestrian traffic and the hustle and bustle of business.

He'd tried multiple times to goad his husband into taking him outside, promising to entertain him with long nights of marathon sex and to wear the promiscuous garments that Markus had bought for him on a whim, but the man had always shut him down before they could talk about it in depth. More than once, it sparked argument.

"You never let me anywhere!" Kaz yelled, balling his hands into fists. "Just one night! One night out to dinner or something! You'll be with me the entire time! I _want_ you to be with me the entire time!"

"Absolutely fucking not!" Markus roared, towering over Kaz before slapping him across the face, and he stumbled back, clutching his cheek. "Don't think I've forgotten about that shit you pulled with the club! You're going to want to escape, and I will _not_ let that happen. You're mine, do you hear me? _You're mine!_ "

"Yes, I understand that, but that doesn't mean that I'm not my own fucking person! My entire life doesn't revolve around you!" That wasn't true, but Kaz desperately wanted it to be. "We're married now! I'm your equal! I can make my own decisions!"

"No, you can't!" Markus' face was blotchy red in his rage. "And us being married doesn't mean a damn thing! You're the one who takes it up the ass, so you're the woman! You need to sit here and tend to your flowers and do all that girly shit until I come home and bend you over!"

"At least women can have friends and go out instead of staying in the same place forever to rot−"

"Oh, so that's what you think this is? You _rotting_ here with me?!"

"No, that's not what I−"

"Enough, Kaz!" Markus bellowed. "You've made yourself pretty fucking clear! You want to rot? Go ahead and rot!"

And then he was storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and Kaz almost vomited when he heard the sound of the lock clicking. He flew to the door, slamming on it with his fists.

"Markus! _Markus!_ Come back! I'm sorry!"

He screamed himself hoarse before he realized that his husband wasn't coming back, and turned to stare at the room that he'd been locked in for months. The room where he was whipped and beaten and fucked bloody. Markus knew exactly what he was doing when he locked Kaz in here, knew fully well the influx of terrible memories that would flood into his mind.

Breaths sawing in and out of his lungs, he screamed his frustrations to the empty room.

Six hours. Markus left Kaz in there for six whole hours before returning to find Kaz kneeling in front of the door, his face wet with tears. He'd waited the entire time.

"I'm sorry," Kaz hiccupped. "I love you."

"You understand now that you belong here with me and not in the outside world?"

A shaky sob and a nod.

"I love you," he repeated.

"Show me how sorry you are, and then perhaps I'll forgive you." It was the same words he'd said before, and more tears slipped out of the corners of Kaz's eyes as he reached up and unzipped Markus' fly.

Despite their fight, Markus eventually understood that Kaz couldn't live his life with no one but his husband to keep him company. After gentle and hesitant pressure from Kaz− who had a newfound fear of his husband's temper− for months, Markus finally decided to start hosting parties, and Kaz found himself making new friends that he'd write to and invite over for a drink every once in a while. He befriended all of Markus' friends' wives who all came with their husbands when Markus started throwing men's parties where they'd play pool and talk about manly things.

It was a happy life, the polar opposite of his life in the Barrel, but he'd sometimes find himself miserable and lonely and longing for his old friends and the streets of Ketterdam. He often wondered where the old gang was now and what they were doing. Were Wylan and Jesper still together? How were Nina and Kuwei doing in Ravka?

How was Inej doing?

All of these questions were always left unanswered, and they weighed heavily on his heart.

"Hush. I have no idea how you must be feeling right now, but you have to let us help you," Kaz murmured gently.

Divine Intervention, a snowy white Lipizzaner mare, let out a heavy exhale and pinned her ears as Kaz held her large head in his lap, stroking her cheek in an attempt to soothe.

"Make sure she doesn't kick me," Markus pleaded as he crouched behind her, and Kaz took a moment to admire the fact that his husband had traded in his suit for a tight button-down, slacks, and boots. "I don't want to walk around with a horseshoe print on my forehead for the rest of the week."

"All women in labor are irritable," Kaz pointed out with a chuckle. "It's not like I have a say in whether or not she decides that your face seems kickable."

Although Markus had over eighty horses in this stable, thirty of which were mares, he still insisted that he deliver all of the new foals himself. The whole process was much safer now he had Kaz to help him distract the mare as he hovered behind and made sure that everything was going as it should.

"The legs are already out. It won't be long now."

"You hear that?" Kaz asked, scratching under Divine Intervention' chin. "You're gonna be a mother soon."

 _GET THIS THING OUT OF ME!_ was clearly the mare's frenzied response.

A half hour later, Divine Intervention had given birth to a beautiful black colt, which Markus lovingly recommended they name The Bastard of the Barrel, despite the fact that Kaz wasn't the slightest bit amused.

"That can be his racing name. We can call him Dirtyhands for short," he suggested cheerfully, and Kaz rolled his eyes, trying to hide how the familiar names made him ache for the Slat and the rest of the Dregs.

"He's going to be white when he's older, Markus," Kaz deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest and watching as Divine Intervention nuzzled her new foal and took in his scent. "What man names a white horse a dreary name? Try for something more lighthearted, sweetie."

Grudgingly, Markus officially named the colt Zemeni Warland.

"Jackson?" Markus called, and a young boy of about twelve was at the stall door in moments, his red hair tousled and his blue eyes as bright as a summer day.

Kaz couldn't bear to look at him, because when he did all he could see was the bashful flutist and explosives expert that he'd once known.

"Yes, Mr. Espenov?" he asked eagerly.

So willing to please. So determined to make sure that he left a good impression. His mere presence made Kaz's eyes water, and he focused on Divine Intervention as she hauled herself to her feet and nuzzled her colt, encouraging him to do the same. In a few years' time he'd be a strapping stallion coveted by many, but now he was a gangly youngling whose legs were too big for his body.

"Saddle up our horses please," Markus requested, chuckling as Zemeni Warland, wriggled around, trying to get his legs beneath him. "This is cause for a celebration."

"Of course, sir."

He dashed off, and Kaz was glad to see him go.

"He's going to be a handsome stallion when he's older," Markus decided as Warland finally seemed to get the hang of it and started hobbling around the stall, sniffing curiously at everything and everyone before going to nurse from his mother.

"Indeed," Kaz replied lightheartedly, but his mood had soured, and Markus noticed almost immediately that something was off.

"What's the matter?" he asked, rising to his feet and coming over to sit next to Kaz, who was picking at the straw bedding idly. "Is something wrong?"

Kaz turned to his husband, searching his eyes before admitting softly, "I miss my friends. I haven't seen them in so long..."

He expected Markus to get angry, as he usually did whenever Kaz so much as mentioned the outside world or how much he longed to visit it, but instead of dragging Kaz out of the stable in a fury, Markus simply wrapped his arm around Kaz's shoulder.

"I understand," he muttered, pressing a kiss against Kaz's temple. "Don't worry, I understand."

Years upon years passed, and Kaz was content for every single one of them, enjoying his time with the horses, in the garden, and especially his time with Markus. At times he'd long for Ketterdam and for his friends, crying for them when no one was around, but then he'd get called away to some duty and the whole thing was forgotten until something else reminded him of all he'd lost.

Things were great between him and Markus, and he lived without a worry in the world…that is, until he started noticing little things about his husband that reminded him just how human they both were.

By that point, Kaz was separated from the outside world for a long, long time by that point, and had forgotten what it was like to experience mortality firsthand. Back in the Barrel, he'd seen death every day. It was always around the corner, always lurking like a shadow over his shoulder, reminding him day in and day out that he could die at any moment. It was like time didn't pass here. Sure, the horses came and went and Kaz mourned for them, but they were just horses in the end, and there were always new ones to replace them.

Markus, however, could not get replaced like the horses could.

Markus himself was the one who started the whole thing, the one who first pointed out how he was getting older and spurred Kaz into the realization that time still affected this place. They were not untouched just because they lived behind wrought iron gates and were surrounded by guards.

"Ugh, look at this!" Markus complained as he bent over the sink, peering at himself in the mirror with narrowed eyes.

"What is it now?" Kaz scoffed, coming over to stand behind him, resting his chin on his husband's shoulder. "Nonexistent acne again?"

"Look!" Espenov gestured frantically to his head, and it took Kaz a few moments to realize that his husband's once chestnut-colored hair was now streaked with grey. He was a good twenty or so years older than Kaz, and yet Kaz had never really stopped to think about just how old his husband was getting to be.

Had never really stopped to think of the fact that his Markus would probably leave this earth long before him.

The thought terrified Kaz to no end.

Instead of voicing his fears aloud, Kaz merely kissed Markus' cheek, murmuring, "You're still handsome to me."

More time passed, and the more time that passed, the more Kaz became acutely aware of his husband's condition.

He was more tired now than ever, and gave himself a shorter workday so he could sleep more, and it didn't take long for his entire head and stubble to get consumed by grey, only a few chestnut locks remaining. He looked like a proper mercher now, instead of the young, handsome stud that had greeted him on that fateful night by the Lucky Lady.

The butler once suggested he go to a Tailor to have his youth restored daily, but Markus adamantly refused, his distrust for Grisha and his desire to stay true to himself prevailing over his hubris. Kaz supported him through the entire thing, but a little part of himself agreed with the butler; the last thing he wanted to do was watch helplessly as his husband grow a little older and a little grayer every day.

He started turning down Kaz's offers to ride together, despite the fact that the only things he loved more than horses were Kaz and his business, and even though Kaz begged him endlessly to accompany him on a long gallop around the property, he claimed it left him incredibly sore and stiff afterward. However, he never complained when Kaz started popping the buttons on his shirt, which Kaz counted as a victory. He found himself focusing more on the victories than the losses, probably because those losses were starting to pile up faster than Kaz could manage.

 _SLOW DOWN!_ he begged Father Time as the two of them lay spooned in bed and he noticed the weathered look of his husband's once-smooth hands, which were clasped gently over his abdomen. _PLEASE SLOW DOWN!_

But Father Time wasn't listening. Either that, or Ghezen finally was receiving Kaz's prayers from all of those years ago, begging him to smite Espenov where he stood, and he cursed himself over and over again, blaming himself for what was happening to his husband. Why had he had to pray such things to Ghezen, even when he hadn't believed? Why couldn't he have kept it to himself?

Now he was being punished for it; with every year that slipped by, Markus grew weaker.

He went to work less and less until he started working exclusively at home, sifting through the never-ending stacks of paper on his desk with Kaz diligently at his side. Parties grew few and far between, since Markus could no longer stay up so late to host them, and once again Kaz found himself alone with his husband, though he wasn't as bothered by that fact as he'd been all those years ago.

It wasn't long after that when Markus stopped attending every birth of a new horse, the trek to and from the stables too taxing on his energy, and Kaz had to go alone to assist the grumpy mares with the deliveries. When he returned, Markus would ask him millions of questions, so he always had to make sure to concentrate on every single detail of the birth.

The questions were incredibly endearing, but the very fact that they existed only reminded him that his husband was too weak to go witness the birth himself.

"Do you still love me?" Markus murmured one night as the two lay together, their clothes scattered across the floor and their legs tangled beneath the sheets.

"Why would I not love you?" Kaz prompted, borderline offended. "I love you just as much as I did the day you proposed."

"Well, it's been twenty years. And now…now I'm old. And ugly."

"No, you're not!" Kaz insisted indignantly, his eyes narrowing as he kissed Markus fiercely, drawing away only to add, "You're my husband and you're still the most handsome man on this side of Ketterdam."

"That's a lie," Markus scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm surprised you even want to have sex with me anymore."

They squabbled for a little longer before both of them were too weary to continue, and Markus was the first to fall asleep, which was common these days. Kaz laid awake and studied his face, studied the new lines and wrinkles that were etched into his skin as if it were stone, and Kaz smoothed his thumb over the crow's feet that bunched up next to his eyes, as if in attempt to smooth them out.

Kaz knew things were definitely winding down the day that he sashayed into the bedroom in a garter belt and stockings and Markus took one hungry look at him before frowning and saying, "I don't think I can do that right now, Birdie. I'm…I'm sorry. But I…I don't think I can do it."

"Alright," was Kaz's murmured reply before crawling into bed next to him and watching him as he read, resting his head on his shoulder and watching his eyes scan the neat rows of text.

He'd wept long and hard that night.

It was preposterous; in the beginning, he'd dreaded when Markus would ask for sex and suffered through it every time. Now, however, he was upset that his advances were rejected.

It was a strange world.

A few years after that, Kaz must've done something wrong. He must've left a window open during the night without realizing it or must've invited the wrong person over, because Markus came down with a terrible sickness, and Kaz knew, with a heavy heart, that their days together were numbered.

Their quiet and sometimes awfully lewd dinner conversations were interrupted by Markus hacking on coughs, which were watery and never seemed to end. He'd lie awake at night and listen to the way his husband's breathing rattled whenever he drew breath, and worry himself sick when he needed Kaz's assistance to get out of bed.

Kaz brought in Healers from around the world, paying the highest prices for their services and to have them travel to Ketterdam, desperate for some sort of cure to his husband's ailment. Every single one of them, from the familiar yet foreign streets of Ketterdam to the far reaches of Ravka, came in to check on Markus, and none of them could do anything more than diagnose him:

Pneumonia.

His husband was dying from pneumonia.

Kaz knew how pneumonia worked, knew that there was water in his husband's lungs that needed removing, and he argued and haggled with every single Healer, demanding them to fetch a Tidemaker to take the water and shove it down someone else's windpipe.

There was nothing they could do, though; treatments like that rarely had any success, and Markus was completely against it.

"I've accepted it, _mio pichske uccesco_." By that point, he was bedridden and running a temperature, and tears sprung to Kaz's eyes at the old pet name. "Just let this run its course."

"I can't lose you," Kaz murmured, clutching his husband's hands in his own. They were so thin and delicate, as if Kaz could shatter them into a million pieces just from squeezing them too hard. "I can't. I just…I can't. You're all I have left."

A dark expression passed over Markus' face, but it was gone as soon as it had come, replaced by a soft smile that Kaz wanted to bottle up and keep forever.

"I love you," he murmured.

"By Ghezen, I love you too," Kaz sobbed, pressing his husband's hands against his lips, "I love you more than anything else, more than anyone I've ever known."

It happened on a Saturday, just like with Markus' proposal.

The whole staff was gathered in the bedroom as Markus coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe. Kaz was in bed next to him, holding both of his hands and cradling his husband's head in the crook of his shoulder.

The Healers had done all they could do, and now they stood off to the side, their expressions grim. No one met Kaz's watery gaze as he searched the room, desperate for someone who could help or someone to blame, but there was no one to blame but himself.

He'd prayed for Markus' death all those years ago, and now his wish was granted.

"I love you," he kept murmuring to his husband, hushing it against his hands and into his thinning hair. He wanted those to be the last words that he heard.

Markus drew in a rattling breath, and at first Kaz thought he was going to go into a coughing fit again, but instead he turned to him.

"I'm sorry," Markus whispered, his words faint and his eyelids fluttering.

"For what?"

"For…for everything."

Kaz wanted to scream at him, wanted to tell him that there wasn't a single thing to be sorry for and that Kaz was never as happy as he was at his husband's side, but he could do neither of those things, because by that point Markus, his Markus, was gone, slipping through his fingers like water.

Kaz threw back his head and wailed.

-Ӝ-

If someone came to Inej and told her that she could never go to Ketterdam ever again, she'd probably throw a party on her ship and invite every single person she saw until the boat sunk into the sea and everyone drowned.

She never wanted to race over its rooftops or navigate its serpentine streets ever again, never wanted to lay her eyes on the murky canals or the crooked buildings for as long as she lived; it was too much of a reminder of what she'd lost, too much of a reminder of her biggest failure in her life to date.

And yet, she couldn't escape it. Much like a pigeon to a gambling table, the wretched city drew Inej into its dark depths time after time, and she went willingly, almost as if to punish herself. Every year she claimed she'd never go back, claimed she'd only anchor in Kerch to see Wylan and Jesper in their country house and nothing more, but every year she found herself pointing the bow of her ship to Ketterdam despite her raging internal battles.

Her crew was fine with this, completely content to make themselves at home as they hit the tables and perhaps raided a few brothels in the process to make sure no one was enslaved there, but Inej always found herself breaking away from the group once dusk settled over the rooftops.

While they had their fun, she would retrace step by agonizing step until she was standing in front of the gates to the Espenov mansion. Her veins would boil with rage, then, and several times she considered sneaking into the house during the night to murder Espenov in his sleep, but she never did, knowing fully well it was too much of a risk.

After standing in the shadows for a while, just watching the guards patrol, she'd depart and take a walk to calm her nerves. It was always the same routine whenever she arrived at Ketterdam; she'd stay with her crew for the better part of the morning and afternoon, go to the Espenov mansion in the evening, let her anger and regret consume her, and then walk it off after.

The walks were no better than standing outside the mansion, and did very little to help her settle down. Every canal she passed reminded her of the weeks she and the rest of the Dregs had spent scouring them, searching desperately for a body. Reminded her of the way Nina tried to use her powers to draw his remains back up from the sloshing water, but only found the bones of animals and those who'd long since died. Every building reminded her of the Slat and the way she and him used to linger together even after everyone had gone to sleep, sitting on the roof and feeding the crows. The crows themselves were everywhere and also served to jog Inej's memory, and it didn't take long for her to wish it would stop.

Why was Kaz still haunting her? Why couldn't he just be at peace?

 _It's because he isn't at peace,_ a nagging voice in Inej's mind explained. _You haven't found his body. It was swept into the ocean by the current and is now rotting at the sea floor. He will never forgive you for what you did to him, never forgive you for how you left him behind._

Inej would stand at the railing of a bridge and look down into the churning water, wondering if Kaz was lying down there, empty eyes staring back at her. She'd cover her face in her hands and think about what Kaz's final moments were probably like, his fear and hopelessness and pain becoming her own. They'd probably killed him right when they realized they were under attack.

And then she'd return to the group and pretend nothing happened at all.

As of that moment, Inej had once again found herself in Ketterdam, and she steeled herself, preparing for the vicious cycle to continue. That was when she realized something was off; as soon as she docked _The Wraith_ in the harbor and she and her crew disembarked, she realized people were staring and pointing at her ship, talking excitedly to one another.

That was odd; Inej only thought herself famous in the trafficking world, where men whispered her name with fear in their hearts, spending every waking moment praying they wouldn't see the her ship looming up on the horizon. Never would she imagine she'd grown famous in Ketterdam for such a thing, and she brushed it off with ease as she joined her comrades for a good round of booze, food, and gambling at the Crow Club.

She stood at the craps table and looked around at the place that had once belonged to a powerful gang, a gang that, like all of the rest, was weakened marginally after the buying of all of their commercial enterprises. The Dregs, however, were struck especially hard by the loss of their elite members, and had all but faded away from the Barrel, more of an organized group than a gang these days.

As she reminisced, she knew it was time, and politely excused herself, ignoring the knowing looks her crew members exchanged behind her back.

With a heavy heart, she set off to the Espenov mansion, which was oddly devoid of guards.

-Ӝ-

A hard knock on the door woke Inej from her slumber in her hotel room, and she had a knife in her hand immediately, her eyes narrowed as she stalked over to the door and peered through a peephole. One of her crewmembers stared back, and Inej didn't hesitate to unlatch the door and allow her inside.

"What is it, Meredith?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "It's the middle of the night, and you should be watching the ship."

"I know, ma'am, but I was on watch when a lad of about ten years old strolled up the gangplank like nobody's business and handed this to me." She held out a crisp white letter sealed with red wax. "Said it was for you. Inej Ghafa."

Inej's blood ran cold at the realization that someone in this saintsforsaken city knew her full name, and she snatched the letter out of Meredith's hands. The envelope was blank; no return address, no nothing. The only words written were: "To Inej."

"Did he say who it was from?" Inej asked, slipping her thumb under the lip of the envelope and cracking open the seal.

"It's nobody you know, ma'am," the freckle-faced girl replied, shrugging.

"Try me."

"Listen, I really don't think−"

" _Meredith._ "

The girl rolled her eyes before giving in: "It's some random man. The boy told me his name was Kaz Espenov."

Inej's heart leapt right into her throat, threatening to roll out of her mouth and make a grand escape, and her hands trembled as she looked down at the letter tucked inside of the envelope with incredible care.

"You're excused, Meredith," Inej whispered, choking on the words as they got trapped in her throat. Meredith looked hesitant to leave, but she didn't argue, slipping back down the hall and back to the ship, and Inej watched her until she disappeared around a corner before closing the door and staring down at the letter.

_Inej,_

_You probably don't know who I am right now, but you might remember the person I once was; Kaz Brekker._

_You're probably wondering how I could possibly be alive, and why I'd only contact you after twenty or so years. This is probably because Markus Espenov didn't kill me that fateful night, though at times I kind of wish he did. He kept me, did things to me that I'd much rather forget, but after years with him as my only company, I eventually grew to love him._

_I hated− I still hate− myself for it, hate how I loved someone who'd done so many terrible things to me, but I suppose I was just desperate for something good in my life that was just one awful day after the next. We had our ups and downs. Markus asked me to marry him and I said yes. He kept me within the property as a prisoner but treated me like royalty all the same, and despite everything, if presented with the option I wouldn't take back those years that I spent with him._

_Now, however, I'm a widow. My husband succumbed to pneumonia not three weeks prior to me sending this to you, and immediately I sent out a warrant for a meeting with you, which is why a whole crowd of people alerted me of your arrival this morning._

_I never stopped thinking about you. I dreamed about you coming to rescue me from that terrible place, and imagined you were with me when I was alone. I never harbored any resentment, never hated you. I don't think I could ever do that._

_I don't know what we were, the two of us, but after all of these years I at least want to be friends. I bet you're a whole new person, and so am I. I'm going to the docks tomorrow at noon. If you want to see me, meet me there. If you don't want to see me…well, then I'll know._

_Yours truly,_

_Kaz_

-Ӝ-

Inej arrived at the docks an hour early, and there was nothing to do but stand by her ship and wait.

The smell of salt and brine permeated the air, and gulls cried out over the churning of the sea and the bustle of activity on the docks. If Inej had to admit that she missed any part of Ketterdam, this place would be it, but her mind was too preoccupied to really admire the atmosphere that she'd come to know as home.

Kaz was alive.

After all of these years, he was alive.

And to think that whenever she came and lingered by the Espenov mansion, Kaz was somewhere inside, very much alive and very much alone, with his captor as his only company. Inej could only imagine what Espenov did to him, and the thought made her shiver against the ocean breeze, reminding her of her time at the menagerie.

The guilt weighed down heavily on her shoulders despite the fact that Kaz had assured that he'd never held Inej accountable for his capture. Because of her, Kaz was forced to love a man who'd essentially tortured him. It _was_ torture, considering Kaz's aversion to touch; it had taken years for him to get comfortable enough to hold Inej's hand, and Inej couldn't imagine how hard it was for him to handle Espenov forcing him into doing things before he was ready or before he was even consenting.

Time was fluid as she waited and pondered.

What would she even say to him? Would she tell him that she hadn't stopped thinking about him, either? Would she tell him how she lingered by the Espenov mansion, unknowing that he was still living inside?

She worked herself up into a panic with how much she worried, pacing frantically and scanning the many faces milling around the dock, both dreading and hoping to see Kaz among them.

Then, suddenly, a boy came dashing into the crowd, announcing something that was lost to the wind, and the excited energy of the dock spiked, people running over to tell their shipmates and crew something that Inej was deaf to, too consumed in her own thoughts to really pay much attention.

However, she was jolted out of her near-stupor when someone off to her right cried, "There!"

Inej looked up sharply and found the crowd parting, and she sucked in a breath as a handsome white stallion strode through the mob of people, its snowy coat and delicate frame standing out against all of the other dull-colored draft horses that were helping haul crates. Its mane was long and curled at the ends, and the hairs around its muzzle and eyes were slightly blackened.

And there, sitting high upon the stallion's back, was Kaz Brekker.

No, Kaz _Espenov._

This man before her was nothing like the one she was forced to leave behind in the mansion. While Kaz Brekker was all hard lines and sharp angles, Kaz Espenov was softer around the edges. His face was rounder, his eyes brighter, and instead of a sunken gaze and downturned mouth, this Kaz boasted smile lines that were gently etched into his face and a grin that was as bright and vibrant as a summer's day.

He greeted the people around him with joy rather than contempt, leaning down to shake hands and chatting with everyone as if he knew all of them personally, which Inej wouldn't doubt was the case.

He looked up and their eyes met for the first time in over twenty years, and Inej was shocked when his grin widened. It was an expression that she'd never seen on Kaz's face, one of delight and excitement that the old Kaz had always bottled up inside. He bid farewell to the sailor he was talking to and urged his stallion onward, over to where Inej stood.

As soon as he dismounted, he threw himself into Inej's arms, and the Suli vigilante staggered in shock and surprise as Kaz's arms wrapped around her.

"Kaz?!"

"Inej," was the breathless response. He withdrew, laughing. "You seem quite startled."

"You're…you…I…" she fumbled for words before deciding that her actions could speak for her, and she quickly pulled him back into a hug. "You're alive."

"And so are you," Kaz chuckled. "How have you been doing? Capturing a lot of traffickers, I hope?"

Inej blinked owlishly. "Yeah. Yeah, a lot." She turned to Kaz's stallion, who was waiting patiently. "Nice horse."

"His name is Zemeni Warland," Kaz explained. "Zemi for short. He's very old, but he's still beautiful. My husban− Espenov and I were present at his birth."

"Oh."

They lapsed into a tense silence at the mention of Espenov, both of them unwilling to say more, and Inej saw the familiar turmoil behind Kaz's eyes, only this time he hid it with a smile, clapping his hands together.

"Perhaps we should continue this in private," he announced, a little too cheerfully. "We have a lot of catching-up to do, and I don't think either of us want to spill our life stories while here on the streets."

"No kidding," Inej snorted, her eyes sliding to Zemeni Warland, who'd started nuzzling Kaz in search of carrots or sugar cubes. "We getting on your horse?"

"No, Zemi can't hold two people anymore," Kaz responded, a note of wistfulness tinging his words as he stroked the stallion's nose. "We'll both walk."

"Where?" she asked as Kaz led the way, waving off the crowds of assembled people that had coalesced in hopes of catching a peek of him.

"Back to my house."

Inej found it funny how Kaz had called it a "house" when in reality it was the largest dwelling in the entirety of Ketterdam that was inhabited by the least amount of people.

She and Kaz shouldered their way through the crowds, everyone bidding Kaz farewell and thanking him for a new budget that he'd passed or something, and Inej shot Kaz an accusing look. When he saw her glare, he shrugged.

"I managed to convince the council to pass the first budget in eighty years that taxed the rich more than the poor," Kaz explained, holding Zemi's reins with one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other. "It was a groundbreaking moment in Ketterdam history. I still can't believe it. And I only had to bribe two of them!"

Inej nodded and smiled, but on the inside she was not adjusting well to this new Kaz, who smiled widely and often and wore his heart on his sleeve. The only thing he'd done so far that was remotely like the old Kaz was bribe the two politicians, so she focused on that.

"Ketterdam must be getting better if you only had to bribe two," she pointed out as they maneuvered through the narrow streets, taking in the tightly-packed buildings that leaned toward them like old codgers with crooked backs. "How much money did you have to give them?"

Kaz eyes glittered, a sly grin stretching over his face. "Who said anything about money?"

Inej choked on her own saliva, hacking on coughs, and Kaz patted her back to try and help her. Once she was sure she could breathe, she opened her mouth to say something only to find Kaz's gaze pinned to the ground, his jaw tight and his eyes glassy.

"I'm so sorry, Inej," Kaz murmured through clenched teeth, and Inej could hear the self-loathing in his voice. "I shouldn't have done that. I always ruin everything by saying the wrong things."

"Kaz−" Inej's voice failed; she had no idea what she could possibly say, and the conversation fell to the reign of an uncomfortable quiet.

By the time they reached the mansion, the dread had built up in Inej's gut to the point where she thought she might vomit. There was a gatekeeper on duty, and he unlocked the door and took Zemeni Warland's reins from Kaz, who patted the horse on the neck and thanked the gatekeeper quietly.

The house looked abandoned and foreboding, the windows dark and the lawn in a state of disarray, grass growing tall and unkempt. It looked like nobody had lived in this house for months, and Inej wondered if Espenov had only been gone for three weeks or if Kaz had lied.

"Where are all the guards?" Inej asked tentatively as Kaz led her up the cobbled path, weeds slithering between the cracks in the stones. "And the groundskeepers? Do you only have the one guy?"

"I fired all of the staff as soon as my husband died," Kaz murmured, and when Inej turned to him she saw an unreadable emotion behind his eyes, as if he were looking at the mansion and seeing what it had once been rather than what it was now. "I hired only enough people to keep the place running. I have a cook, a handful of maids, a farrier and about twenty stable hands for taking care of the horses, and a groundskeeper that comes on Wednesdays, but none of them are from the original staff."

"May I ask why?" Inej felt like she was trying to rescue a wounded animal, and that one false move or false word would send it bolting. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine," Kaz replied as they scaled the steps up to the front door and pulled out the ring of keeps again. His hands were trembling. "Before I rode off to meet you at the harbor, I vowed to be honest with you. No more lies."

"That's very kind of you," Inej murmured, thanking him when he held the door open for her, and Inej's whole body went cold as soon as she stepped across the threshold.

She could sense that this was not a friendly house, that terrible things had happened within these walls. It was the same feeling she got whenever she busted a brothel that had enslaved its workers, a feeling of wrongness settling down her spine and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up.

"It had been much warmer here when my husband was still alive," Kaz murmured, looking around the grand foyer that Inej had only ever dreamed of seeing. "Now this place just feels cold. Empty."

A heavy pause as Kaz guided Inej between a twin set of staircases.

"There used to be a lot more staff. Hundreds of people," he recalled, sounding almost as if it had been a thought in his head and he'd merely make the mistake of saying it aloud. "Before I made them all leave. I sometimes wonder if this job was all that they had…if they had families that they had to support and I'd just thrown them out to the streets."

"You're definitely in the right," Inej assured him, her shoulders squaring defensively. "They must've done something if you fired them all."

"That's the problem. They didn't do anything," Kaz muttered, his hands balling into fists as they filtered into a small lounge area, and he gestured for Inej to sit. "They just sat by and did nothing when I was screaming in agony, did nothing when I was begging for someone to save me."

Kaz bowed his head, his hands clenched in his lap. "I remember the second day I was here, when a maid came in to change the sheets that were stained with my blood, and I'd pleaded for her to help me. She only gave me a pitying look."

Knowing of nothing that she could say to soothe him, Inej hesitated before gently placing her hand on Kaz's shoulder. For the first time since she'd ever known him, he leaned into the touch rather than leaning away from it.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but…" he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as his face and neck flushed red with humiliation.

"Kaz, I want to know everything," Inej stated. "You're not rambling or oversharing. I want to hear this. I want to be able to help you."

Kaz studied her eyes as if in search of something that would let him know she was lying, but he came up with nothing. He looked away, chewing on his lip before admitting, "Markus even brought in Tante Heleen to…to train me."

"He…what?" Inej went rigid all over, her words were barely there.

"I was fighting with every single ounce of my strength, so he hired her to...break me." Kaz took in a shuddering breath. "She succeeded."

"I'm sorry," Inej murmured, knowing fully well what it was like to be at the mercy of Tante Heleen, but Heleen had only reconditioned Inej for a week or so; to think that Kaz had been resisting so hard that it had taken months for him to finally bend only served to make tears threaten to spill over. "Kaz I…I'm so sorry."

While she'd been grieving outside of the gates, Kaz had been fighting until the bitter end, spending months in complete and utter misery until he'd finally snapped.

"There's nothing to apologize for. What's done is done." A small smile graced his face. "It's funny how I still feel like I can open up to you even after so many years. I mean, we're practically strangers and yet…" His eyes met hers. "I still feel like I can trust you with anything."

"Me, too," Inej agreed. "I've run into my fair share of trouble on the high seas…"

They spent the rest of the day catching up, only stopping to take a dinner break inside of the large and lonely dining room with a table that could seat fifty guests but only had two. Inej described her escapades with her crew, how the trafficking industry had grinded to a near-halt because of Inej and others inspired by her, and Kaz detailed his time within the Espenov mansion, trying to keep his recollections lighthearted but occasionally drifting into dark waters.

"I still believe that the love that I had for him was real," Kaz sighed. "After…everything, he was kind to me. He was the light of my life, my sun, moon, and stars all rolled into one. I still don't know how I could feel that way after all of the terrible things that happened beforehand."

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Inej insisted, noticing the familiar hint regret and shame that tinged his words. It was something that she'd picked up from the old Kaz, and apparently it hadn't changed in the slightest. "You did nothing wrong."

Her fingers twined with his. "But I'm glad you're okay now. You have no idea how happy I am to be talking to you right now."

"Likewise," Kaz murmured. "Would you…would you and your crew like to stay here for the night? It's better than a dingy hotel in the Barrel."

"That would be lovely."

They rose to their feet, but before either of them could make a move to leave, Kaz touched Inej's arm, keeping her where she was.

"Inej…I want to be with you again." At Inej's expression, Kaz scrambled for words, "Not as a couple− I don't think I'm ready for that yet− but as the comrades we once were. I want to gather up the whole team again and get back to doing what we do best."

"You want to be a gang leader again?" Inej prompted, trying to sound disapproving, but her eyes were sparkling. "You would really leave this life of luxury to crawl back to the Barrel?"

"Heavens no! But let's just say that lately I've been itching to swindle a few corrupt politicians out of a lot of money, and I would really like you to join me in the endeavor."

Inej grinned as Kaz's expression melted into a scheming face, his lips twisted into a smirk.

In that moment, she knew that Kaz Brekker was back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit it, this was part of the reason why it took so long to update. Hope you all liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> wow, this was a long fic...  
> again give lots of love to my friend @iwovepizza for writing a lot of this fic!
> 
> please comment, kudos, and do what ever else you do on a fanfic!
> 
> (also be prepared for more pain the the up-coming chapters...)


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